


To Unite All Peoples

by MyceliumMythos



Series: RWCT [2]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Action/Adventure, Background Team ABRN, Background Team SSSN, Friendship, Gen, Haven Academy, Mistral - Freeform, Original Character(s), Same World Different Continent, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-19 16:16:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 33,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8216416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyceliumMythos/pseuds/MyceliumMythos
Summary: After surviving the first exam, Citrine Vermoss has been assigned to her team at Haven Academy and is ready to begin training to be a proper hunter.  If only it were that simple!  With a myriad of issues staring her down, from her own insecurities to behavioral issues on her team to a lopsided rivalry with Team SCUL, will Citrine ever be able to get Team RWCT in shape?  And even if she does, will it be in time to qualify them for the Vytal Festival Tournament?





	1. Don't Forget to Write

The village of Libeccio, located to the southeast of Mistral Proper, was experiencing a temporary population boom, bringing the total number of residents from 1,032 all the way up to 1,050.  The Vermoss Hunting Commune had decided to settle there for a few weeks in order to resupply and wait for a new job to reach them.  Although the community was normally less than welcoming of newcomers, it was quite comforting to have a team of hunters around.  The crew of highly skilled craftsmen that followed them weren’t such a bad addition either, the villagers had decided.

However, if there was anything the villagers didn’t exactly appreciate about them, it was the occasional bouts of eccentric behavior from the hunters, but they were coming to accept that when you were as powerful as a fully trained hunter, you had license to be a little weird.

An evening in early fall on the sleepy main street of Libeccio was disrupted when a shrill cry of alarm rose out of drug store.  A few passersby briefly stopped outside of the store to see if there was any real issue, but quickly carried on their way when they noticed it was just the big, shaved-headed member of the hunting team blubbering about something again.

“He left?” Budge asked, staring in disbelief at the distressed magazine clenched in his meaty hands.  “How could he just leave?”

“Who left?” Warbler asked, patting his shoulder comfortingly.  “What’s wrong?”

“They were doing so wonderfully!  I can’t believe they just fell apart like that!”

“Who left?” Nary asked, practically having to clamber over his back in order to get a look at the magazine.  “What’s going on?”

“Oh, and what’s worst of all!  This must have been weeks old by the time it reached Libeccio!” he wailed, lamenting the snail’s pace of post to villages.  “They’ve been broken up for weeks already and I didn’t even know!”

Robin snatched the magazine from Budge, looked it over, and asked, “Really, Budge?  Star Shot?  You’re getting this upset over _Star Shot?_ ”

“Look, he was very fond of their music,” Warbler said, coming to his husband’s defense even though Warbler himself didn’t really see the appeal.  “He got a new album or concert video every time we visited another town.  It was something to look forward to.”

“And now I don’t have a clue if there’ll be any more material from them!” Budge exclaimed.  “One of their members just left, and he was the quiet one!  There’s no telling what’ll happen to their dynamics without him.  I mean, just imagine if we lost Nary!”

“Calm down, calm down, I’m sure it’ll be alright.”

“It won’t be.  I’m sure they’re going to fall apart.”

“You’re being irrational.”

“Only because this situation is irrational!”

“Ahem.  E-excuse me?”

The members of Team RNBW turned and looked at the small, timid drug store employee who—unbeknownst to them—had drawn the short straw with her co-worker when it came to who would approach the hunters.

“There is a call waiting for you in the back,” she informed them, trying not to wilt under their gaze.  “It appears to be coming from, um, Haven Academy?”

“What?”

“A call from—”

“Haven?”

As one, three grown adults leapt away from the magazine racks at the front the store, racing away at speeds incomprehensible to a normal human towards where the store's computer sat.  Nary stayed behind to fork out a few lien for the magazine Budge had destroyed, then double-timed away to ensure she didn’t get cut out of frame.

“Citrine!” Team RNBW sang as the video call came through and their daughter’s face appeared on-screen for the first time in three weeks.  This joyful greeting was quickly followed by Warbler adding, “Oh honey, you look terrible.”

It was true, their daughter had seen better days.  Even on the lo-res call, they could see shadows under her yellow eyes, the messy state of her normally pristine blond braid, and the generally tired look on her tanned and freckled face. 

“Thanks, glad to see you too,” Citrine grumbled, then quickly reconsidered.  “I’m sorry, that was mean,” she said her expression softening.  “I’m really, really glad to see you guys.  It’s just been a really long three weeks.”

“Oh honey, I’m sorry too,” Warbler quickly apologized.  “And I didn’t mean terrible in the sense of ‘looking terrible,’ I meant it in a sense of you looking tired and unhappy.  Are you okay?  Have you been eating enough?”

“Has the food gotten any better there?” Robin asked.  “It used to be pretty simple when we were students.  All that time with the rice and the chick peas, I’d be sick too.”

“How’s your combat classes going?” Budge asked.  “You kicking all the other kids’ butts?”

Nary, noticing Citrine’s hesitance to respond, turned to the rest of her team and said, “Alright, calm down, calm down, we’re all excited to talk to her, but I think there’s one very important detail we’re all curious about.  Why don’t you tell us about your team?”

“Ugh, my team is half the reason why it’s been such a long three weeks,” Citrine groaned, rolling not only her eyes, but her whole head.  “Like, we had kind of a rocky start.  Like, a really rocky start.  Like, I wanted to bash my partner’s head in with a rock kind of rocky start, but I thought at least by the end of the entrance exam we were starting to get along better, and maybe we are, but they’re still a pain in the ass to work with.  Oh, what?” she demanded, seeing their bemused expressions.

“Aww, I’m just so proud,” Robin said, beaming at her.  “Our little girl goin’ through the same hurdles as every other hunter student since the beginning of time.”

“Wh-what are you talking about?” Citrine demanded.  “ _You_ never had to deal with this.  You guys said you were besties from day one!”

“Yeaaaah, well,” Robin said bashfully, “that might have been a _slight_ exaggeration.”

“Yes.  Our day one may have actually been more like a day 45,” Warbler laughed.

“Day 97 for Nary, though,” Budge said, giving Nary a playful nudge.  “She reaaaaally didn’t like us at first.”

“In all fairness, you were all a very noisy bunch,” Nary said.  “Even Warbler, after he warmed up to you!  He spent half the first semester babbling on about the formal dance he was on the planning committee for.”

“See, there’s a learning curve for all teammates,” Warbler said.  “Even for your dear old moms and dads.”

Citrine shrugged uncertainly.  “I guess…”

“Alright Citrine, now tell us!” Robin exclaimed.  “Tell us your team name!  And who your teammates are!”

“I was placed on Team RWCT.  That’s R-W-C-T,” she explained.  Blushing slightly, she slowly mumbled, “And, well, I…I might have been named the team leader.”

The triumphant roar that arose from Team RNBW at this news was loud enough to wake the farmers miles outside of town.  It was certainly loud enough to scare out the few customers who had dared to stay in the drug store with the hunters around, and even the employee who hadn’t drawn the short straw.

“Yes!  Yes!  YEEEEEES!” Robin shouted, pumping her fists into the air.  “That’s my girl!  That’s my wonderful, awesome, super strong girl!  Just like your mama!”

“Oh, oh!” Budge exclaimed, fanning his eyes.  “I'm so excited to hear that, I think I might cry.”

“This is just fantastic!” Warbler exclaimed.  “I _knew_ you would do it.  I _knew_ we had the best kid.  I know every parent thinks that, but we've really got the best.  Ooh, I can't wait to rub this in the face of old Team CHRM.  I hear two of them have a kid at Haven this year too.  I doubt their kid's a leader like ours.”

Even the normally stoic Nary was looking a little teary eyed.  “That’s wonderful, Citrine,” she said.  “We’re all really proud of you.”

Despite all their praise, Citrine’s mood appeared not to have improved.  In fact, Nary thought she may even look upset over all of it.  “Thanks, but…leadership’s not all it’s cracked up to be so far,” Citrine murmured.  “I keep trying to get my teammates to work together and improve their skills, but, well, my partner’s too pig-headed to admit he needs to improve, my best friend usually shows up, but she’s always distracted when she does, and the other guy, he—”  Citrine paused and looked around.  “Oh, shoot,” she said.  “That’s them coming now.  Sorry, I have to log off and—”

“No, no, no, no, stay!  Let them visit!” Robin insisted, grabbing the screen.  “Let us see who our little girl’s working with!”

“Um, yeah, I’m not sure that’s such a good—”

“Citrine, who are you talking to?”  A dashing purple-haired head appeared on the screen, almost instantly attempting to nudge Citrine over to get into frame.  “Oh, is this your family?” he asked.

Citrine already seemed exasperated by his presence.  “Yes, this is Robin, Nary, Budge, and Warbler,” she said pointing them out.  “They’re some of my parents and the members of Team RNBW.  And everyone, this is Royal.”

“Greetings, Ms. and Ms. and Mr. and Mr. Vermoss.  Royal Mauvello, heir to the Monarch Communication Technologies Company, and now the proud partner of Citrine here.  Very pleased to meet you,” he said, bowing deeply. 

Robin and Nary exchanged a skeptical look.  “Well, Royal,” Nary said, “you certainly seem—”

“Now, I know what you must be thinking,” Royal interrupted.  “Is this really a fair partnership here?  Should we be concerned?  But I am here to assure you that I am taking excellent care of your—”

“Alright now, that’s enough out of you,” Citrine said, shoving him out of frame.  Nary had to hide a laugh.  That wasn’t too far off from how arrogant Robin had been when they first met.  “Can you guys come say hi too?” she said, looking at others off-screen.  “Don’t let Royal be their only impression of our team.  Torque?  Please?”

Off-screen, a low monotone voice sniffed and replied, “No thanks.  I’m good.”

“Oh, come on,” Citrine begged.  “Just for a second?”

“It’s okay guys,” a second voice called out.  “I can say hello.  Can’t have them thinking we’re all Royals.”

A moment later, a silver head with fox ears and a gentle smile appeared in frame.  “Hello!” he sang.  “I’m your daughter’s teammate, Ware.  Pleased to meet you!” 

Warbler gasped. 

Budge nearly began to hyperventilate.

“Is that—Is that really—Citrine, are you really—Is this where he— _Is that Ware Sterling on your team?_ ”

Citrine sighed and palmed her face.  “And therein lies the problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is, the first chapter of the second arc of the RWCT series. Checking in on Team RNBW for now (because I'm a sucker for doting parents) and then onto classes at Haven next chapter. Enjoy!


	2. Bane of My Existence

“Match, Citrine Vermoss versus Sun Wukong—begin!”

Citrine made the first move, charging across the stage with her poleaxe, Harbinger’s Almanac, raised.  Before she could even complete a swing, Sun climbed atop his pole and shot at the ground, blasting himself into the air.  As the monkey faunus swung from the rafters above the classroom by his tail, Citrine turned Harbinger to rifle form to take a shot at him, but he was able to fire off a round first, blasting her backwards.

“Come on, Citrine,” Sun called out playfully as he swung around.  “You’re never gonna land a hit grounded like that.  Whoa!”  He was forced to leap out of the way as Citrine hurled Harbinger at him like a javelin.  When he landed, Citrine rushed him again with aura-enhanced fists, missing his head by a hair.  She attacked until he was unbalanced enough to have to dodge to the right, allowing Citrine to dash past his left towards where Harbinger had landed.

She barely had time to take a stance with her weapon again before Sun took a shot at her head.  Citrine dodged, only to be confronted by a whirling barrage of attacks from his nunchakus.  Although she was able to deflect the blows she caught, Citrine was unable to keep up with his speed, leading to Sun wrapping the chain of one nunchaku around Harbinger’s pole and ripping it out of her hands.  The only thing she _was_ quick enough to catch was the cheeky wink Sun shot her before whipping his second nunchaku under her chin and sending her flying.

Laying on her back with stars swimming in her vision, Citrine heard a loud buzzer.  For a moment, she wasn’t sure if it was the aura counter screen or if Sun had just managed to punch the hearing out of her.  The voice that followed, announcing, “The match goes to Sun,” confirmed the former.

“Oh, ffffffun,” Citrine hissed under her breath.  “Sooo much fun.”

When the stars began to clear, a gloved hand appeared above her head, and Citrine instinctively took it.  She was pulled to her feet by Sun, who shook her hand as well and said, “Good match, today!  You really surprised me with that axe throw.” 

“Thanks,” Citrine grumbled back, though without any real animosity.  Despite the fact that he had just wiped the floor with her, it was hard to hold a grudge against Sun Wukong.  The guy was so friendly and likeable, he had been almost unanimously elected as the class representative their first week at Haven, a feat practically unheard of at the academy for a faunus.  If there was any reason she was upset after the match, it was the fact that she then had to walk back to her seat past the rest of the 20-odd first-year team leaders who had just seen her humiliating defeat and were, no doubt, judging her harshly.

Apparently, team leadership at Haven came with an additional weekly class.  While the rest of the students were free to spend their Saturdays as they wished, all the leaders had to file into the classroom at 9 a.m. for a two-hour seminar and practice session with Professor Lautrec.  As a class, it could be rather difficult, not only because of the higher standards of the lessons and combat expectations, but because it was composed primarily of leader-types and there was a high chance of egos flaring when, for example, two students proposed different answers to the same question.

In short, in-class fights didn’t always happen because Lautrec was looking for volunteers.

This leadership class was not something Robin had warned Citrine about before coming to Haven, leading her to wonder if it had even been a thing 20 years ago.  Either way, for her, it had been such a miserable affair that if she had known about it in advance, Citrine felt she might have put less effort into the first exam.  

For one thing, she hadn’t really made any friends in the class.  Admittedly, most of the leaders weren’t too buddy-buddy with each other since they were still trying to get to know their own teammates, but they still tended to have one or two people they gravitated towards and talked to before class.  The only person who seemed to gravitate towards Citrine was Skull, who always sat behind her with his dirty boots up on his desk and started every class by asking, “Hey Sunshine, ready to drop out yet?”

For another thing, Skull in general.

“Thank you, Sun and Citrine, for your participation,” Lautrec said once the class had settled down.  “Would anyone like to comment on their performance in the match?  What they did right?  What could be improved upon?  Yes, Skull?”

Citrine could already feel his sneering gaze on the back of her neck as Skull said, “Yeah, Citrine?  She sucked.”

A low ripple of laughter flowed out through some of the students and Citrine’s face flushed in shame, even as Lautrec narrowed her gaze.  “Care to add anything more constructive or detailed to that?” she asked sternly.

“Details?  Sure,” Skull snorted.  “Detail 1, she _really_ sucked.  Detail 2, she’s been sucking for the last three weeks.  Detail 3, the only reason it’s her here sucking instead of one of her teammates is that somehow, they all manage to suck even worse than she does.”

Citrine slammed her fists on the desk and spun to confront Skull.  “Why don’t you say that to me in the ring, and then we’ll show everyone who really sucks!” she snapped.

Skull seemed to not even consider her threat before going on mockingly, “What, like how you showed everyone just now when you lost to Sun?  Or how you showed everyone the week before when you lost to Arslan?  Or how you showed everyone three weeks ago the first time I proved I could take you down in less than a minute?”

His words cut through her almost as harshly as his scythe had during that first class when Citrine, thinking she could put an end to all of Skull’s crowing, had challenged him in a practice match.  She had instead been swiftly and soundly defeated and hadn’t been able to live it down since.  The fact that she hadn’t been able beat any other team leader yet wasn’t exactly helping her pride either.

“Settle down, students, settle down,” Lautrec called out.  “Citrine, according to the aura reader, you’re in no state to be making challenges, and Skull, I expect a certain level of civility in my class.  If you will return to your seats, we may continue on…”

It was only when Citrine sat back down that she realized Skull hadn’t even taken his feet off his desk.  The day they met, she had easily been able to provoke him into wanting to fight, but now, apparently, she wasn’t even worth the time of day.  That was the biggest insult of all.

An hour later, as Citrine was despondently filing out of class with the others, Professor Lautrec caught her by the shoulder and said, “Citrine, may I speak with you for a moment?”

Skull was already smirking as he passed her by, but with other students around, she had no choice but to nod respectfully, and say, “Of course, professor.”  It was only once everyone else had left that she began to make her plea.  “Look, is this about my win-loss record?” Citrine demanded quickly.  “Is this a warning that after four consecutive losses, I get kicked out of this class and someone else takes over?  Because I’m honestly trying—I’m really, _really_ trying to fight better, but I just keep hitting this wall and—”

“Hold on, hold on there,” Lautrec said, holding her hands out soothingly.  “I have no intention of kicking you out of this class or replacing you as leader.  After all, you are not the only leader who has yet to win a match.  There’s Olive Pitts on Team OSAN, Torquil Derringer from Team GNTL, Aqua Cascade on Team AMTH…”

 _Oh, great,_ Citrine thought.  _I’m on par with the guy who shoots knives out of his guns and the leader of Team Arts and Crafts?_

 “And there is no shame in that; in taking some time to find your feet at Haven,” Lautrec assured her.  “It’s simply that most of the other students who performed as well as you in the entrance and partner exams, such as Sun and Arslan and yes, Skull, have considerably better records, and it’s made me concerned that there’s something holding you back from performing at your best.”

“Okay, but that’s the thing—the only thing that feels wrong is that I am doing so badly!” Citrine insisted.  “I’ve spent my whole life out there in the wilderness fighting Grimm, and I’ve never been this bad at fighting before!  I don't know why I can't get a handle on this!”

A light of understanding appeared in Lautrec’s eyes.  “Ah,” she said, “am I to assume that, instead of attending Sanctum, you were taught by an independent master?  Lots of real Grimm experience?”

Citrine nodded.  “I learned from my family.  They run a Grimm fighting business," she said.  "One of my parents taught me axe-work and my other parents taught me about fighting Grimm and surviving in the wilderness.”

“I might have guessed,” Lautrec said, clasping her hands.  “Citrine, I’ve seen cases like yours before—students who performed extraordinarily well when it came to fighting Grimm, but fell apart when it came to one-on-one combat with other students.  Almost every time, it has been due to the fact that they came from a situation like yours where, instead of gradually building up their skills with others at their own level, they were thrown into the deep end with Grimm from the start.”

“So…” Citrine said slowly.  “I’m not good at fighting people because I’m too good at fighting Grimm?”

“Perhaps not necessarily too good, but too comfortable,” Lautrec explained.  “While you have considerable strength, skill, and know-how when it comes to fighting Grimm, these aren’t necessarily things that can be applied in the same way when fighting humans.  Although Grimm can be very fast and powerful, the vast majority of them are young and practically mindless.  Fighting them requires vastly different tactics than fighting another human who can easily match every unique move of yours with a unique counter of their own.

“Take your match today with Sun as an example.  If you’d been paying attention to his previous matches, you would know that he relies on acrobatics and his superior agility to get the edge on his opponents.  You essentially lost the moment you rushed in against him thoughtlessly, allowing him to get around you without resistance.  Do you understand that?”

Citrine frowned uncertainly.  “It sounds like I’m supposed to treat humans like Grimm—to keep track of their weaknesses and use that to my advantage.”

“You may have to do it on the fly at times, when facing a new opponent, but yes, that is the principle.  Is there something that bothers you about that?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged.  “I’m just not sure if I like the idea of thinking of people like that, like Grimm.”

Lautrec gave her a kind smile.  “That type of thinking may make you a fine, noble hunter someday, Citrine,” she said.  “But you should also know that there are some humans out there far worse than the Grimm; humans who, unlike those mindless beasts, willingly choose to do evil things.  When you encounter such people, you should be prepared to use every advantage against them.”

“Wow,” Citrine said, “that’s—”

“Anyway, don’t worry about this whole win-loss record for now!” Lautrec exclaimed, suddenly brightening up.  “You’re already excelling in the rest of your schoolwork, so just put in a little extra combat training with your teammates, and you should be fine!  Or look up the second year Lazulus Bethane from Team MPVL.  He had the exact same problem last year.  Alright now, see you next week!”

Speaking of humans—and faunus—who were worse than Grimm, the entirety of Team SCUL was waiting for Citrine outside of the classroom. 

“Oh, what now?” Citrine demanded, glaring at Skull and his goon squad.  “You wanna make fun of my clothes now too?  My weapon?  My absentee parents?”

“Nah,” Skull snorted.  “Though really, that hoe of yours never fails to be just hilarious.  Nah, I just wanted to see if my favorite little flower girl had gotten kicked out of Haven for being such a miserable failure.”

“And by ‘wanted to see if,’ I’m sure he meant ‘was desperately hoping to see that,’” Lux supplied helpfully. 

“Come on, Lux,” Citrine said.  “I thought we were cool.”

“Sorry, Citrine,” Lux said in a very unapologetic tone.  “Better to make my own leader happy than you.”  Skull held up a hand for Lux to high-five.  Lux executed it perfectly without even looking.  Umbra, for some reason, seemed annoyed by this.

“Ugh, why are we even here?” she demanded, lashing her lizard tail agitatedly.  “Every time Team RWCT comes up, which seems to be _weirdly a lot_ , Skull won’t shut up about how not worth our time they are.  So why are we wasting our time on them again?”

“Because they’re fun!” Carmine exclaimed.  “Citrine, I really wanted to see Torque again!  She’s always got some neat little gadget in her pockets for me to play with.  Where is she now?”

“Yeah, Sunshine,” Skull said.  “Where are they?  Loser squad didn’t feel like picking you up today?”

“They—they’re out training,” Citrine insisted quickly.  “They couldn’t be bothered because they’re out busy—busy out— _whatever,_ training!  And I said I’d join them right after class so, if you’ll excuse me.”

She hoped that her abrupt turn down the hall would be dramatic enough to silence Skull, but as usual, he just had to have the last word.  “Have fun with your ‘friends,’ Sunshine!” he called out mockingly.  “I’m sure all this training will totally make you suck less!”

And the thing was, Citrine thought as she stormed off in search of her teammates, that maybe she could have fun with them.  Maybe she _could_ turn a training session into a good time with friends.

But of course, that would only be possible if her team didn’t consist of the most arrogant, flighty, and irresponsible hunters-in-training in all of Haven.

And if Citrine could ever manage to track them down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, turns out college ain't all that fun for everyone. Who knew?


	3. The Worst Teammates Ever.  Of All Time.

On the first day of classes, all the first-year students had been asked by Professor Lautrec to write down on a card why they wanted to be hunters.  Although some people had seemed stumped over this, taking ages to turn in their cards, Citrine had immediately written “To help people” on hers, because that was what her parents had always told her being a hunter was about.  Being a hunter was about standing up and putting your life on the line to protect those who could not protect themselves.

Despite this general mantra of “help the helpless,” Citrine was beginning to wonder if the helpers eventually got a little help themselves.  For example, she was pretty sure she could use some help as she charged back and forth across campus, calling out her teammates’ names.

“Royal?  Ware?  Torque?”

“Ey!  You lookin for me?” Torquil from Team GNTL asked as Citrine passed him.

“Torque, not Torquil!” Citrine snapped.  “And don’t wave that knife-gun around.  Torque?  Royal?  Ware?”

“Where what?” asked some jerk from Team OSAN.

“Shut up, Nigel!  Ware?  Tor—oh, why am I even bothering?” 

As if there was anywhere else Torque might be in her free time.  Citrine changed direction and headed off towards the armory.

Haven’s armory was more than just a place for students to store their weapons.  It was also a storage center for dust and spare parts, and a shooting range where students could try out new features on their weapons. 

Torque’s favorite part of the armory, and very possibly the entire school, was the workshop where students were encouraged to experiment with and make adjustments to their weapons.  Citrine had learned this mostly from the way Torque immediately disappeared after classes every day only to reappear at their room shortly before midnight, dressed in coveralls and smelling of motor oil.

Unsurprisingly, Citrine found her there on that Saturday as well.  In fact, she was the only person Citrine found there.  From what she understood, the workshop was normally underutilized.  Most of the students who had put the work into developing their weapons properly in the primary academy already had something they were satisfied with, and most of the students who hadn’t done so weren’t suddenly interested in trying. 

As such, Torque had been allowed to colonize a quarter of the workshop as a place for her own personal projects.  Walking through the workshop, it was easy for Citrine to tell where the common space ended and Torque’s space began.  While the rest of the workshop was rather haphazardly arranged with boxes of miscellaneous parts, with loose screws and ammo littering the floor and random tools and half-baked schematics littering all the workbenches, Torque’s space was oddly neat. 

Citrine wouldn’t have guessed it based on the two seconds Torque put into her appearance in the morning, the terminally cluttered state of her desk, and the doodle-laden notes she always took in classes, but her section of the workshop was fastidiously well-kept with a designated space for every tool and spare part.  She even used the boxes of spare parts to help create a barrier between her space and the rest of the floor.

“Hey, Torque,” Citrine greeted her, popping up behind the box barrier. 

Seated at a workbench, Torque gave her a short nod of greeting as she continued to tinker away with a heavy metal ring.

“Whatcha workin’ on there?” she asked.

Torque raised one fist and made a punching motion before returning to her work.

“Right,” Citrine said.  “So, is that something for Výthisi, or…?”

Torque shrugged.  “Might be someday.”

Citrine sighed and decided to simply push on.  “Well, if it’s something that can wait, you mind putting it aside for a while so we can go do some team training?” she asked.  She tried to give Torque that careless, winning smile Sun always seemed to have on his face, which seemed to help in keeping his team happy and motivated.  Torque merely responded with The Torque Look™, which made both her mouth and eyelids look like a flatline.  “Aw, come on, Torque,” Citrine begged.  “Do you know how hard it is for me to get Team RWCT together for training sessions, what with Royal running off who knows where, and Ware getting dragged off by his fans, and you hiding away here with all your gadgets after classes—”

“These aren’t just gadgets, Citrine,” Torque said, holding up the ring.  “These are the future of our team.  And of humanity.”

“Okay, but you can work on them _any time_ ,” she insisted, “and we really need to start getting in shape as a team or else Team SCUL is— _I mean_ , all the other teams are going to leave us in their dust.”

Torque looked up at her.  She saw through her in an instant and asked, “Was Skull being a jerk again?”

“Well…well, yeah,” she admitted, glancing aside.  “He called me out in front of the whole class today, and not even in an ‘I’m gonna fight you’ kind of way, just in a ‘You suck and here’s why’ kind of way.  And I lost another match today.  At this rate, I’m gonna have the worst win-loss ratio of the leaders by the end of the semester.”

“No, you’re not,” Torque told her with a calm certainty.  “You’re a good hunter, and you’re gonna kick Skull’s ass, just as soon as the time’s right.”

“Aww,” Citrine said.  “Thanks, Torque.  Now, about that training…?”

Torque let out a sigh and set down her work.  “Alright, if it’ll make you happy.”

 _Maybe not happy, but at least less anxious,_ Citrine thought with relief as Torque grabbed Výthisi and came out to meet her.

“Great,” she said.  “Now, where’s your partner?”

“Yeah, Ware’s my partner, and Royal is yours.”

“No, I meant—”  That was when she noticed the small smirk on Torque’s face.  “Heeeey,” Citrine said, smiling back.  She nudged Torque with her shoulder.  Torque bumped her in the leg with her toolbox.

“You know you can just text the guys on your scroll, right?” Torque reminded her.

“Oh yeaaah…”

To find Ware, they didn’t even need to contact him.  There were pictures of him in the library plastered all over Hearth by the pack of fans who seemed intent on spending more time with him than with their own teams.  They studied with him.  They ate lunch with him.  They walked to class with him.  They would have surrounded him in the classrooms if most professors didn’t require students to sit with their own teams.  And they did it all while taking an avalanche of pictures of themselves with him doing the most mundane things.  Citrine was pretty sure Perdita Dalms from Team PPPR and Griffin Bogs from Team RRNG had spent more time with Ware than she had, and _she_ slept in the same room as the guy.

To make matters worse, Ware showed no signs of disliking all the attention they heaped on him.  Even in the privacy of their dorm room, he never complained about it.  Instead, he allowed the fans to flock around him, and took all their questions and chatter and requests for selfies with good natured smiles, leading Citrine to believe he may actually enjoy being held up like that.  As a result, she wasn’t sure how she felt him now.  Maybe he wasn’t lying to her anymore, but he wasn’t being someone she could see herself getting along with.

As soon as she saw the gaggle of girls and boys surrounding Ware at the table in the library, Torque froze in place.  “Yeah, I’m…I’m not gonna deal with that,” she announced to Citrine.  “Too many people.”

“You sure?” Citrine asked.  “He’s your partner, after all.”

“I’m good here,” Torque said.  “Go get ’im, boss."

Citrine sighed and soldiered on, slowly approaching the table even as its occupants carried on with what looked less like studying, and sounded more like gossiping. 

“So, did you see what Gogo did to her uniform?”

“ _No,_ tell me!”

“She cut the sleeves off all her blouses and sewed this cheesy psychedelic pattern onto the hem of her skirt!  Professor Wyltt nearly had a stroke when she showed up to class like that!”

“Oh my good dust, I bet!”

“You know,” Perdita said, linking her arm with Ware’s, “I never thought a famous celebrity like you would be such a good listener.  And I never thought a faunus would be such a nice, normal person!”

“Yeah,” Griffin said, patting him on the back, “you’re a pretty alright guy for a faunus.”

After accepting their compliments graciously, Ware was quick to notice Citrine, his ears perking up excitedly before she could even greet him.

“Citrine, hey,” he said, gesturing for her to come over.  “Everyone, this is my team leader, Citrine Vermoss.  She’s a fantastic axe-wielder.”

“Really?” Perdita asked, casting a quick, sinister glance in Citrine’s direction.  “I heard from Olive that she lost another match in class today.”

“No, no, really, she’s great,” Ware insisted.  “She’s just getting used to classrooms, since she’s spent her life travelling in the wilds.  Say hello, won’t you, Citrine?”

As one, six pairs of eyes turned to stare at her, and Citrine could already feel herself beginning to wilt under their scrutiny.  She could read in their eyes what they must all be thinking about her—all the things she’d started to feel self-conscious about herself since starting at Haven.  Bad skin, bad clothes, stupid weapon.  In general, not good enough.  In this specific case, not good enough for Ware Sterling.

“Um, hey, Ware,” Citrine said, giving him a nervous wave.  “H-hey…everyone.  So, Ware, I was wondering if you had time for some team training.”

Ware hesitated, glancing around at his crowd of followers, all eagerly awaiting the right response.  “Does it have to be right now?” he asked, raising his eyebrows imploringly.  “We are in the middle of studying, after all.”

Citrine felt a flicker of annoyance that temporarily overrode her nerves and grumbled, “Yeah, you look _real_ busy.”  When Perdita sneered at her, she quickly added, “Look, it doesn’t have to be now, but we haven’t had a group practice yet this week, and I already pulled Torque out of her workshop for this, so I’m just trying to get this train rolling.”

“Well,” Ware said, considering it, “if Torque’s already on board, then I should put in my time as well.  The last thing I’d want to do is let down my partner.”  It sounded absolutely insincere coming from him like that, but his fans seemed to eat it up, instantly making pleas for him to stay a little longer.  “Come on now, be fair,” Ware told them as he stood up, collecting his books.  “I can catch up with all of you at dinner tonight.  Until then, my team needs me.”

As they walked away from the table, Citrine could practically feel Perdita typing up another less than subtle Hearth update about how a perfectly good group hang with Ware Sterling had been cut short by unfortunate outside forces, and since she couldn’t exactly go after Perdita for that, she ended up unloading a bit onto Ware instead.

“Wouldn’t want to let anyone down, huh?” Citrine asked, with an edge in her voice.  “Team needs you, huh?”

“Well, you do, don’t you?” Ware countered evenly.  “Also—hello, Torque.”

“Sup.”

“Also, you’re telling me you’ve never adjusted yourself a little for other people?  It’s something we all do,” he said.  “You, for example, always seem to adjust yourself to be extra hostile after you’ve been around Skull.”

Citrine stiffened slightly and grumbled, “Whatever.  Someone just figure out where Royal is so we can get this stupid practice over with.”

“He’s been posting selfies for the past two hours from what looks like Professor Wine’s classroom,” Torque reported, looking at the Hearth app on her scroll.  “So, we should probably check there.”

Royal, as in the partner exam, had been his own can of worms over the past three weeks.  Despite his slight humbling in the face of certain death and the addition of some willingness to admit that Citrine was—to a certain degree—more experienced than him when it came to Grimm hunting, he had continued to strut around with an air of arrogance, self-importance, and, if Citrine had to call it anything, willful ignorance. 

She had seen his test scores.  She had seen his performances in practice matches.  Neither were anything to write home about.  As his partner, Citrine had been trying very hard to summon up some sense of partnerly obligation to come to his aid by repeatedly offering to check over his assignments or to help correct his form, but so far, each and every offer had been shut down with an undeniably smarmy reply of, “Citrine, _please_.  It’s _me_.  I’ve got this.”

In short, it was getting harder and harder for Citrine to convince herself that the number one lesson Royal needed to learn was _not_ how to avoid a folding metal chair thrown by your furious teammate.  The best thing she could say about him so far was that he had at least stopped wearing the suit jacket into battle.  Naturally, the rest of the suit was still there, but at least he had learned his lesson on _that_ front.

“It’s locked,” Citrine said, jiggling the handle of the door to Professor Wine’s classroom.

“That’s weird,” Ware commented.  “Classrooms are always open on the weekends, and they aren’t even locked normally.”

“Should I message him?” Torque asked.  “See if he’s in there?”

“Nope,” Citrine said.  “I’ve got this.”  She began to pound her fist thunderously on the door, shouting, “Royal!  Royal, you sorry, son of a beowolf!  Get your ass out here so we can do team bonding stuff!  _Royal!_ ”

Ware cringed.  “You know, you have such a _unique_ method of building that partnership bond,” he commented.

Citrine glared back at him and snapped, “Well, at least I don’t _ignore_ my partner, unlike _some_ people I know.  ROYAL!”

“Citrine, please stop pounding on the door,” came a muffled reply from inside the classroom.  “I don’t want you to accidentally punch me in the face when I come out.”

She backed off, already thinking that if she did end up punching Ware, it probably wouldn’t be by accident.

Royal stepped out of the classroom and greeted his teammates.  “Citrine, so good to see you.  Torque, always a pleasure.  Ware, looking flawless as ever.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s enough of that,” Citrine said.  “Come on, we’re…”  It was then she noticed the small palette sticking up out of his pocket.  “Is that makeup you have there?”

“Citrine, I hope you’re not one of those backwards thinking people who thinks it’s bad form for men to wear makeup,” Royal said.  “As few as they are, even I have flaws, and I’d hate to send a less than perfect picture back to my family in Atlas.”

“I don’t care if you paint yourself to look like a damn Grimm mask, but is that literally all you’ve been doing today?” she demanded.  “Putting on makeup and taking pictures of yourself?”

“Now, I know you don’t fully grasp the arts of either self-portraiture or makeup application, but there a lot of intricacies to them that you may not—”

“Not all day intricacies!” she snapped.  “Not ‘this is how I’m going to waste my time while my leader’s off getting her ass kicked by Sun Wukong because I’m Royal Mauvello and I don’t care about anything but how I look in a picture’ intricacies, I’m sure!”

Royal frowned down at her.  “You lost another match?” he asked.  “Well, don’t be too glum about it.  You’ll get the hang of them eventually.  You are _my_ partner after all.”

Citrine rubbed her forehead and groaned, “Whatever.  Just…just follow me, everyone.  We might as well get a classroom to practice in.”

“Wait,” Royal stopped her.  “Practice?  As in, now?  Sorry, but I must decline.”

“What?”  Citrine gaped at him.  “But we have to practice as a team!  And we haven’t had any other practices this week!  What are we supposed to tell next Professor Lu when she sees how bad we still suck?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” Royal said, giving her hair a patronizing ruffle as he took off down the hallway.  “You always do, Citrine!”

“Royal, get back here!” she barked after him.  “Royal!  You no-good, lazybones, son of a— _what?_ ”  She rounded on Ware, who had been tapping on her shoulder.

“Not to be rude, but without Royal, there’s not really a point in trying to force a team practice session,” Ware pointed out carefully.  “So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to studying instead.”

He was already backing off as he said it, leaving Citrine to growl, “Sure.  Fine.  Get back to that great study group of yours.  Go be their teammate instead.”  She pointedly watched him walk away, hoping he could feel her judgment as clearly as she could feel that of his fans, until it was only her and Torque left in the hall.

Torque waited a moment, shuffling her feet awkwardly as Citrine glared down at her own.  Then she said, “So…"

“Oh, just go,” Citrine snapped.  “Do whatever.  We’ll do the stupid practice thing another time.  Or we won’t.  I don’t care.”

Which was a bald-faced lie, and even Torque could tell.  She wanted her team to be good.  She wanted her team to be the best.  Citrine cared.  She cared so much it made her furious that the rest of her teammates didn’t seem to.

They hadn’t covered any of this yet in the leadership seminar.

“Your aura’s low.  Get some rest,” Torque told her, bumping her with her toolbox again.  “You know where to find me if you need me.”

Back at the commune, if she was in a bad mood, Citrine would normally run off into the forest to either let off some steam or try to recover her good cheer.  There used to always be something so refreshing about being in nature and being connected to her semblance like that.

After being abandoned by her teammates at Haven, Citrine couldn’t even bring herself to stumble into the forests that surrounded the main campus.  All they did nowadays was remind her of how homesick she felt.  Instead, she slunk back to her room. 

Three weeks ago, knowing she would have to live here in close quarters with three other people for the next four years had almost given her another panic attack.  Now, she was just grateful that it was, for once, blissfully empty.

Citrine flung herself onto her bed and tried to scroll through updates on Hearth to try to distract herself from the massive failure of the day, but she was only reminded of all the reasons she was miserable.  She was sick of all the cliques.  She was sick of all the vanity.  She was sick of all the competition.  She was sick of all the people who weren’t taking this seriously when she was making herself feel sick just to stay in the game and just so she could hear Skull taunt her day after day, “You ready to drop out yet?”

She was sick of Haven.

Her scroll began to vibrate and before she could even try to reject the call, Professor Lu’s voice was forced through.  “Attention all first year students,” she announced.  “You are to meet at the island’s southern dock in half an hour.  There will be a surprise team-based exercise this afternoon.  That is all.”

Citrine had to close her eyes for a moment to stop herself from throwing up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, that all happened. Here, have some character profiles.
> 
> Royal Mauvello  
> Color: Purple  
> Weapon: Spurious Sovereign: bastard sword that can fan out into a shield with a slot for shooting the attached rifle  
> Semblance: double-jump
> 
> Ware Sterling  
> Color: Silver  
> Weapon: Cryptelum: bow that splits into dual blades, color-coded arrows with different dust effects which ???  
> Semblance: ???
> 
> Citrine Vermoss  
> Color: Yellow-Orange  
> Weapon: Harbinger’s Almanac: hoe that turns into a battle axe that also transforms into a rifle to be used in conjunction with her semblance  
> Semblance: saps the life from plants and funnels power into pure energy attacks
> 
> Torque Usi  
> Color: Turquoise  
> Weapon: Výthisi: toolbox that splits into a variety of parts Torque can craft into different weapons based on the situation  
> Known states:  
> Energy projection shield  
> Warhammer  
> In-Production  
> Semblance: skin hardens to a metallic state


	4. Wipeout

“Whoa…what is that?” Ware asked, staring up at the sky.

“I don’t know,” Citrine grumbled, “but I’ve got a rotten feeling we’re about to find out.”

Professors Candace Lu and Gale Wine had escorted the first years to one of the southern islands in Haven’s archipelago.  Unlike the one to the west where they had conducted their first exam, this one was considerably more developed, having had whatever swamps or forests might have been there originally paved over in favor of a series of obstacle courses, including one which seemed to be floating above them, suspended in the sky.

“Welcome,” Professor Lu said, smiling and throwing her arms back expansively, “to the Punishment Course!”

Professor Wine put a hand on her shoulder and said, “Candace, I told you, we’re not calling it that.”

“Then…Funishment Course?”

Professor Wine merely shook his head.

“Fine,” Professor Lu sighed in exasperation.  “This is the _boring_ and _normal_ obstacle course where we test students’ agility and teamwork and blah, blah, blah.”

“The course you see above you is our most recent addition to this island’s attractions,” Professor Wine said, pointing up at the floating course.  “Professor Lu provided the levitation modules to keep them afloat and I designed the mechanics of various obstacles and traps within the course itself.” 

“Plus, we’ve got a few special guests from your upperclassmen here to help us out with their semblances today!” Professor Lu said excitedly.

“Each team will be running this course today.  To complete the course, you must have at least one member cross the finish line within five minutes.  How you go through the obstacles is otherwise up to your discretion.”

“I mean, within limits,” Professor Lu added.  “It’s a new course, alright?  So just try not to totally wreck it during its maiden voyage.”

The students waited around as the professors sorted out the running order for them.  Citrine felt somewhere between embarrassed and annoyed waiting beside her teammates.  On the one hand, she was very tempted to jump up and down, shouting, “I told you so, I told you so, I told you so!”  On the other hand, she didn’t want any of them to say anything to each other ever again.  She would be perfectly content if they just moved forward with their lives in total silence.

As usual, Royal had a wrench to throw into her plans.

“You know, it’s probably lucky we didn’t practice today after all,” he commented casually.  “We’d all be out of aura, and then where would we be?”

Citrine swung Harbinger at him.  Royal didn’t exactly have the reflexes to parry the attack, but he did spin around to block it with the sword sheathed on his back.

“Uncalled for, Citrine, uncalled for,” Royal said, shuffling further away from her.

“I don’t really care what you think is uncalled for,” Citrine said scathingly.  “I asked you guys to practice today.  You ditched out on me.  Now we’re still totally out of sync with each other, and we’re gonna screw this up, and we’re gonna look stupid in front of the whole class, and the only solace I take in that is that _maybe_ , it’ll finally make you guys start to take this seriously.”

“Well, there’s that supportive, sunshiney brand of leadership we’ve all come to expect from you,” Ware said, raising an eyebrow.  “Great speech, Citrine.”

“Come now, Citrine, that’s really not fair,” Royal insisted.  “I’d say I’ve improved tremendously since arriving at Haven, team practices or not.”

“Citrine, if it meant that much, you should have asked,” Torque said.  “I would have practiced if you’d just asked.”

“Yeah, well, I shouldn’t have to!” Citrine snapped, rounding on all of them.  “Even if I am your leader, I shouldn’t have to beg you guys to practice every time!  You should just want to because you want to get better, okay?  Because right now, we all just—”

“Team RWCT!” Professor Lu called out.  “You’re up first.”

Citrine grumbled, “Great.  Just great,” and led her team off towards the elevator up to the course.  They passed Team SCUL, among others, on their way over.

“Break a leg, Miss Sunshine,” Skull jeered at her as she passed.  “It’ll save me the trouble for the next time we fight.”

She swung Harbinger at Skull as well, knowing full well her weapon would just pass right through him.

The tension between the members of Team RWCT on the elevator ride up was thick as their auras intermingled in the small space.  It was beginning to make Citrine feel even more on edge.  From Royal, there were nerves that set her heart racing.  From Ware, there was a cold chill that made her feel like there was a wall between her and her teammates.  And worst of all, there was simple guilt from Torque.  She’d made Torque feel bad.  That was the last thing she’d wanted to do.

“Look guys,” Citrine said, turning to face them as she broke the silence.  “I know today didn’t go as I’d planned, but I shouldn’t take that out on you.  I should have planned better, checked with you in advance.  We’ll get it right next time, okay?”

The mood changed in the elevator as two of her teammates relaxed.  Ware’s posture didn’t change, but he did at least stop staring at her with cold hostility.

“Let’s just give it that good ol’ Team RWCT try,” Citrine said encouragingly.  “See how far that gets us.”

“Yes, let’s,” Royal agreed eagerly.  “After all, it’s an obstacle course for first years!  How difficult could it be?”

His question was instantly cast into doubt as they reached the door to the course.  On one side was a small screen where Professor Wine’s handlebar mustachioed face was waiting to speak to them.  On the other side was a plaque that read “Maze of Hatred.”

“Your five minutes will begin as soon as you step through that first door,” the professor said.  “Good luck, and ever upward.”

“Welp,” Citrine said, glancing back at her teammates, “no time like the present.”  Then she pushed the door open.

The first obstacle on the course, the supposed “Maze” of Hatred, seemed less like either an obstacle or a maze and more like a long, metal-paneled room with nothing else in it.

Ware took one look at the room and said, “This is definitely a trap.”

“Yeah, but we don’t have time to be picky,” Citrine said.  “Everyone just go through quick and be on def—WHOA!”  She barely had time to dodge before a slot opened up on the side of the wall and a heavy, metal arrow shot out.  More slots opened up all along the room and started firing more arrows at random intervals.  “Torque, Royal, shields!” she called out, already having to dodge.  “And stay with your partners.” 

Admittedly, watching Royal fumble to get his shield fanned out, Citrine wasn’t sure that was the person she wanted defending her, but she thought she would be better than Ware at defending herself if something went wrong.  And as they made their way through the room, she had to give it to Royal—he held up his shield quite well, even if Citrine did occasionally have to give him direction on where to move it.  It wasn’t until she was nearly to the end of the room that she discovered that it wasn’t his shield that was the issue here.

“Um, Citrine?” Ware called out.

She spun around with Royal to her back and saw Ware struggling to slash away the arrows with his bow as Torque desperately jerked her toolbox around, apparently unable to get it to transform it.

“What’s going on?” Citrine demand as an arrow snapped against Royal’s shield and went flying over his head.

“I can’t—I can’t get it open,” Torque said, panic rising in her voice.  “It’s malfunctioning.”

Oh, _no_.  “Were you making adjustments on your weapon just before we got here?” she demanded.

“I—I—”  Without her weapon, Torque seemed flummoxed, uncertain of how to carry on.  Meanwhile the arrows were picking up speed, becoming harder and harder for Ware to knock away with his narrow weapon.

“Torque, it’s okay, just use your semblance!” Citrine called to her.  “You’re already a human shield.”

Torque blinked with realization.  “Right,” she said, hardening her skin to its metallic state.  An arrow flew at her chest and bounced right off with a heavy thud.  “Okay, let’s go.”

In a slightly awkward configuration, with the tall, slender Ware hunched behind the short, stout Torque, the pair made their way across the room and grouped up with the others at the second door.  Beside it was a plaque that read “Forest of Mystery.”

The biggest surprise about the room was that there _was_ somewhat of a forest inside.  While there was a straight path through the center to the next room, it was surrounded on both sides by towering trees that almost entirely blocked out the overhead lights.  Citrine automatically began to drain a bit of life from each tree as they started to walk through.

Above their heads, there was a crack as one of the branches broke off and hurtled down at them.  Citrine used Harbinger to slice it in half before it could land.  When she looked back to check on her teammates, she found that both Torque and Royal were safe, but looking worried, and that Ware had run ahead to avoid it altogether.  He seemed to be checking as well that his teammates had come out okay, as if he hadn’t been sure they would be.

“Classy, Ware,” Citrine said.

Ware shrugged, unashamed.  “Gotta do what I’ve gotta do,” he said, and then leapt backward to avoid another incoming branch.

“Stay close,” Citrine told Torque and Royal, and began to lead their charge through.  With her axe, she was able to deflect most of the branches that fell on them and surprisingly enough, even Royal was able to bat a couple away with his sword.

Dashing ahead of them, able to move and dodge more freely, Ware was unsurprisingly the first to reach the end of the course.  When he glanced back at his teammates coming up, he purposefully locked eyes with Citrine and said, “See?  It all works out anyway.”

That was exactly when a large log swung down from the ceiling, aimed like a giant’s hammer at the door and at Ware.  However, before it had a chance to strike, it was blasted apart on two ends—by a green burst of energy from Citrine and by a burning fire arrow from Ware.  The two of them shared a brief look as the dust of the log settled between them.  Then Citrine carried on into the next room with Ware falling in step behind her.

There were two additional rooms after the forest; the Ladder of Heroes, where they had to climb a rock wall as jets of fire shot out at them at random intervals, and the Glass of Confusion, where they had to leap over glass panes as the stepping stones over a deep, dark pit.  Team RWCT managed to pass through those more easily than the first two challenges, even if Royal did singe his shirt a little on the ladder and Torque had a little trouble trying to balance while jumping with her toolbox.  Citrine was still feeling good as they reached the door with the plaque beside it that read “Final Challenge—Leap of Kingdoms.”

“Come on guys, we’re making good time!” she called out, even though she wasn’t sure on that.  She was just determined at that point to see them finish, so much so that she almost ran out the final door and off a sudden drop to the ground.

There was not a final room waiting for them on the other side of the door, but the entirety of the sky.  Stretched before them was a series of metal platforms floating in the air, all with considerable gaps between them.  The wind blew fiercely over them and the ground loomed far below, but at the end of it all was a banner between two poles that read, “Congratulations!”

“Welp,” Citrine said, slapping Royal on the back.  “Your time to shine, partner.”

“Me?” Royal asked, seemingly taken aback at the suggestion.  Then he remembered who he was, and what he could do.  “Oh, of course.  _Me,_ ” he said, straightening up.  “Well, don’t fall too far behind, the rest of you.”  With that, he leapt into the air and started platforming away with his semblance towards the finish line.

“What do you know?” Ware laughed, watching him go.  “Turns out he’s good for something after all.”

He was already nearly halfway across the course when a nevermore swooped out of the sky towards him, the mere sight of it enough to make him lose his footing and fall down in-between two platforms.

“Royal!” Citrine exclaimed, and took off across the platforms in an attempt to reach where he had fallen.  The nevermore was already circling around for a second swoop as Citrine reached the spot.  There, she looked down and found Royal hanging by one hand from the edge of the platform.

“Citrine, please,” he said, looking rapidly between her, the nevermore circling above, and the steep drop below.  His eyes were wide with fear.  “Help?”

“Okay,” she said, offering a hand down to him.  “Just grab on, and—”

There was a shriek behind her as the nevermore shot down and hovered above the platforms between Citrine and the entrance.  Torque stood a few platforms back, waving her toolbox around wildly in an ineffective attempt to ward off the Grimm.  Ware was nowhere in sight. 

And at that moment, Citrine also became painfully aware of the fact that the path to the finish line was now wide open.  Literally nothing in her way.

Royal managed to get his hand up again and begged, “Citrine, _help!_ ”

Citrine reached down and grabbed him, attempting haul him up even as her own aura burned down to its final embers.

Then, a voice boomed out of the sides of the platforms, “FIVE MINUTES OVER.  COURSE OBJECTIVE FAILED.”

Extra plating pushed up between the floating platforms, bringing a shaken Royal back up to solid ground.  The nevermore poofed away, leaving behind nothing but a cloud of golden thread to float away in the wind.  At the same moment, a girl with tremendously long blond hair appeared on the roof of the last obstacle and waved down to them.  Citrine saw Ware still waiting in the doorway.

The voice boomed out of the platform speakers again.  “PLEASE EXIT DOWN THE ELEVATOR OF ENDING.”

Team RWCT left the course in silence.  They walked back to the rest of the students in silence.  They saw the monitors set up beside them where the first years were queuing up to watch the next run-through, realized they must have seen the entirety of their failure broadcast in glorious HD, and dispersed into the crowd in silence.  Only Citrine stood by to watch the next run, because Team SCUL was up.

There was something that burned inside her as she watched Team SCUL run the course without flaws or slip ups, with almost practiced precision and synchronicity.  In the absence of the aura reserves that normally filled her, making her feel warm and protected, there was only a painful, gnawing hunger in its place.  She was bitter, and she was tired, and she was jealous of Skull.

Citrine could practically feel him mocking her with his run.  She felt certain he was using the course to show that he was not only the better hunter, but the better leader as well.  Half the obstacles he could have dealt with alone by going intangible, but instead he passed them step by step alongside his team without a single one stepping out of line.  Whether it was Carmine and Umbra with all their wild tendencies or Lux with her hesitance to act, they still acted in complete agreement under Skull’s commands.  When he said jump, they jumped.

Under his command, Team SCUL completed their run in just over two minutes; the fastest time that day.

 _Why aren’t we like that,_ Citrine thought in despair as she watched them cross the finish line.  _Why is Team RWCT so awful and Team SCUL so good?_  

They were practically even in the first exam.  Citrine would even say she had handled the whole Grimm situation better than Skull, but now, he was leaps and bounds ahead of her.

_What is making me and Skull so different now?_

And when she thought about it, there was really only one answer that came to mind, and it came to her in Skull’s own mocking tone.

_Friends._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Citrine, no. You get rid of those thoughts right now. Don't join the emos. Don't be a Skull.
> 
> Also yeah, this chapter basically ended up being a big dumb Let's Play Minecraft Wipeout reference.
> 
> LEAP OF KINGDOMS!


	5. Mistakes Were Made

“Hey, guys?” Royal asked.

“Yeah?” Torque asked.

“Do you ever wonder why we’re here?”

Ware frowned at him.  “Do you mean in a ‘divine, ineffable plan’ sense?” he asked.

“No, I mean in a ‘this very specific situation’ sense,” Royal said.  “In a ‘why did Citrine ask us to be here, especially when it seems she couldn’t even be bothered to show up herself’ sense.”

The three members of Team RWCT stood waiting in line in Professor Lu’s classroom.  An hour earlier, they’d all received the same cryptic text from their leader requesting they meet there.  When they’d arrived, they were surprised to find that Citrine herself was nowhere in sight.

“Do you think this is her idea of revenge for yesterday?” Ware asked, referring to both the failed practice session and their disastrous obstacle course run.

“See, now, I never really saw Citrine as the revenging type,” Royal said, contemplatively.  “The ‘hit you in the face when she feels annoyed with you’ type?  Certainly.  But I think she usually has better things to do than worry about revenge.”

Torque could only bring her eyes to meet the ground.  “I think she was really upset,” she murmured.  “She didn’t talk to us after the exercise.  I’m not even sure she came home last night.”  Her unspoken thought along with that was, _I think we let her down._

“If she’s upset, then she can deal with that on her own time instead of trying to waste ours,” Ware insisted to Torque.  “It’s not as though her performance yesterday was perfect either, so she has no right to judge us.”

Torque narrowed her eyes at him.  “She’s our leader,” she pointed out.  “It’s her _job_ to say when we mess up and help us get better.”

“Really?”  Ware tilted his head, wearing a lofty expression.  “If that’s so, then she’s failing miserably on the second point.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, now hold on there,” Royal said as Torque took a step towards Ware.  “Let’s not make too much of a scene here, alright?  This is probably all just Citrine’s attempt at a do-over for the practice we missed yesterday.  I’m sure she’ll be here any moment now to get us all sorted out in her own rustic little country manner.”

The door to the classroom opened with a bang, and in shot Citrine in a flash of yellow and orange with Harbinger active for an attack.  Charging at her teammates, she swung at Royal first, who managed to pull his sword out and block her even as he let out a panicked squeal.  Locking eyes with him as they locked weapons, she gave him a strangely broad and manic grin and said, “I see you finally got that parry down,” before knocking him back onto the floor.

She went after Ware next, aiming a blow with Harbinger at his chest.  He pulled out his bow and used it to block the attack.  “What are you doing?” he demanded, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Oh, you know,” Citrine said, “just making sure you know both of our limits.”  They traded blows a few times, with Ware responding with considerably more speed than Royal had managed.  However, at such close range, unable to draw or use his dusted arrows, Citrine was quickly able to gain the upper hand and smack the bow out of his hands.

Then, her hand glowing green with energy drained from outside, she turned and looked at Torque.  Torque hadn’t moved in reaction yet.  Instead, she simply stared at Citrine, a hint of concern in her gaze.  Citrine did not aim an attack at her.

“You get Výthisi sorted out yet?” Citrine asked, meeting her gaze evenly.

Torque nodded, jolting her toolbox into its shield form, though holding it up in no obvious defensive position.

“Okay.”  Citrine nodded.  “Good.”  She blasted the energy at a training dummy on the opposite wall, obliterating its chest and leaving the head and limbs to fall apart.

“Alright now Citrine, you have some serious explaining to do,” Royal said sternly, getting to his feet.

“What is wrong with you?” Ware demanded.  “Just attacking us like that?  Is this your idea of a joke?”

“Are you okay?” Torque asked quietly.  “You seem a little—”

“Line up, Team RWCT!” Citrine bellowed.  The group stared at her in confusion until she repeated through gritted teeth, “I said, _line up!_ ”

Slowly, the three of them formed into a line and watched apprehensively as she began to stalk back and forth before them.

“As I’m sure you all know,” she said in a certain and practiced manner, “our ‘efforts’ in yesterday’s training exercise resulted in our abysmal failure.  While… _humiliating_ , this failure does nothing more than reflect our standing as a team.  It reflects how we have allowed ourselves to be distracted, divided, and unprepared.  Well, today, all of that changes.”  She spun to face them and stamped the butt of Harbinger onto the floor, for dramatic effect.  “ _I’m_ going to change that.”

There was a pause as the rest of Team RWCT took in this information.  Then, Royal leaned over to Ware and said, in a less than hushed whisper, “I think our glorious leader may have used a bit too much gravity dust.  Her mind seems to have floated out of the realm of possibility.”

“Yes, what exactly are you suggesting here?” Ware asked skeptically.

“Didn’t get the message?  Fine,” Citrine said.  “I’m saying no more suggestions.  No more playing nice and being _friends_ with you guys when I should be acting like your leader.  From now on, I’m going to be the leader you need, and that means being a leader who whips your butts into shape.”

“Citrine,” Torque said softly, “you’re starting to sound like Skull.”

She felt something tick in her head at the sound of his name.  “Yeah, well, Skull doesn’t have a team as bad as ours!” she snapped.  “So maybe he’s doing something right after all!”  Citrine stared around at them imploringly and said, “Look guys, it’s the plain and simple of it.  We _suck_.  We are a _terrible_ team.  Maybe by some fluke of luck and adrenaline, we managed to eke through the first exam, but we have done _nothing_ to build on that, and if we continue to do nothing, it’s going to get us _killed_.”

“You can posture all you like, you know,” Ware said evenly.  “It doesn’t change your real reason for doing all this.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Citrine demanded, rounding on him.

“It means that ever since you started losing matches in the leadership seminar, through no fault _but_ your own, you’ve started going off the edge and getting angry with _us_ ,” Ware pointed out.  “You’re just doing this to try to nurse your own pride.”

“I am doing this so we don’t all die!” she shouted.  “I am trying to protect us, because what have _you_ ever done to try and protect us?”  Citrine pointed Harbinger at him accusatorily.  “You’ve logged more time with those sycophantic fans of yours than you have with any of us.  You’re more interested in gossiping and being fauned over than you are in improving your skills.”

Ware’s eyes narrowed to cold, violet slits as his fox ears swiveled back defensively.  “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said.

“Agreed.  You’re not being fair, Citrine,” Royal said, attempting to defuse the situation.  “Let’s everyone just take a moment and—”

“Oh, and _you’re_ just as bad, Mr. Royal Mauvello,” Citrine said, turning her axe on him.  “You’ve been nothing but an arrogant braggart from day one, but you’ve never once been able to back it up.  You’ve never even tried!  It seems like your entire job at Haven has been to get on my nerves and make me hold your hand through every single training exercise.  And Torque!  Torque, you messed up _so bad_ yesterday.  It’s bad enough when you disappear every day just to hide out in the workshop, but when you risk altering your weapon like that and you put all of us in danger, it’s just—it’s just…”

It was then Citrine really stopped for the first time to see what her words were doing to her teammates.  Both Torque and Royal were red in the face, though with wildly different body language.  Royal’s shoulders were tense and his fists clenched while Torque was slouched over, her head hanging down.  Both of their eyes were beginning to turn red as well. 

The anger that had welled inside her instantly froze over.

“Wait, hold on,” she said shakily, not sure which of them to reach out for.  “I didn’t mean it like that, guys.  I just…I just—”

Royal rushed past her, purposefully bumping one of his shoulders against hers.  Torque, on the other hand, slowly and dejectedly walked past.  Citrine felt helpless watching them go, uncertain of who to go after or what to say.  Ironically, she was starting to feel her own eyes beginning to redden as a lump formed in her throat.

“You know, I really should have expected this.”

Citrine spun on Ware, the only other member left, standing still and resolute.  “ _What?"_ she snapped, glaring at him even as her voice cracked. 

“That first time you pulled your weapon on me, your first day in Mistral, I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt,” Ware said coolly.  “I thought that might just be your own way of saying hello.  But now I see it’s just what you do when things aren’t going your way.  Like so many humans before you, all you are is greedy and vain and violent, and you’re willing to do whatever it takes to get what you want.”

There was nothing now of the public Ware who wore the serenely smiling face.  Now there was only wariness and judgment.

“And for me, I suppose it’s my own fault.  I’ve seen it so many times before, I really should have known better,” he added casually.  “But Torque and Royal?  That’s all on you.”  He walked past her, then at the door, called back, “You really don’t have a clue how much they trust you, do you?”

Then it was only Citrine left alone in the classroom, facing down the ghosts of her mistakes.  Harbinger’s Almanac fell from her hand to the floor with a thud as she began to wonder if there was anything she could do to make this right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Citrine, you done hecked up.


	6. Because We're Still...

“Does anyone else feel like we take a weirdly high amount of field trips in this school?” Scarlet asked.

“No?” Sun said, though with some uncertainty.  “I don’t think we take too many.”

“No, Scarlet’s right,” Sage said.  “There was the obstacle course two days ago and now we’re here in another forest today?  That’s a lot compared to Sanctum.”

“Not to mention landing strategy helicopter drop three days before that,” Scarlet added.

“And the navigation exercise on that desert island,” Sage said.

“And the dummy rescue-retrieval exercise.”

“And the—”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Sun said.  “You Mistral guys aren’t used to getting out of the house much.  Geez.”

“Look, I don’t care how much we go or don’t go or whatever,” Neptune groaned, clutching his stomach.  “I just wish we didn’t have to do so much of it over open water.  Ughhh…”

The first years were being led by Professor Lautrec through the forest on one of the northern islands for another exercise.  They had yet to be informed what the specifications of this assessment were, but they already knew this was one of the Grimm-populated islands, and that had many of them on alert.  For some of them, such as Team SSSN, it was business as usual.  For Neptune, business as usual meant gossip.

“So did you hear guys that Team RWCT might be getting reassigned?” he asked his teammates in a hushed tone.

“What?” Scarlet squeaked in surprise.  “Nooo, that can’t be true!  Can it?”

“Hey, that’s just what I heard,” Neptune shrugged.  “But just so you know, Perdita was saying Ware was thinking about being assigned to a new team because he wasn’t satisfied with the rest of his teammates.  And Nadir was saying he saw the whole team fighting in Professor Lu’s classroom yesterday.  And Sun said Vermoss had some kind of breakdown in the seminar the day before, so I dunno, that kind of seems like a team that’s going downhill to me.”

“Okay, now I know you’re just making stuff up,” Sun said.  “Because all I said was that she snapped at Muinarc, and he was baiting her anyway.  You gotta stop listening to gossip, man.  I’m sure they’re fine.”

Sage glanced at Team RWCT.  They were walking together, but only in the loosest sense, with none of them so much as looking at each other as they went along.  “I don’t know,” he said.  “Even if they’re not breaking up, I think they’re in trouble.”

Citrine, meanwhile, was thinking just about the same thing as Sage.  She was intensely worried about the future of her team.  After her performance the day before, Citrine had been unable to face her teammates.  Instead of returning to her dorm room, she had once again camped out under the trees that surrounded Haven’s campus.  Although she had hoped it would allow her to feel safe, to reconnect her with her roots, her sleep had been just as disturbed as the night before.  All of her thoughts had been consumed by her actions, by what she had done wrong, and by what she had been trying to do right.

It had seemed like such a simple plan.  Get her teammates together, get their attention, and make it clear that she was taking charge and that it was for the best.  It seemed so hard to mess up, but somehow, her plan had horribly derailed.

What was it, she wondered.  Had it been their stubbornness?  Or her ego?  Had it been their lack of concern?  Or her quickness to anger?  Or maybe it had been the sheer stupidity at the core of her plan to begin with.  Trying to be like Skull?  What had she been thinking?  Citrine _hated_ Skull.  All he did was make her feel bad about herself, and she thought he was a horrible person for it.

But it was undeniable that he ran a tight ship with Team SCUL, because despite their individual quirks, they always seemed to be able to come together in a way that Team RWCT could never manage.

And even when she tried to act like him, she couldn’t get her team to act like his.

So maybe it was just her.

Citrine was so caught up in her thoughts, she almost didn’t notice that Professor Lautrec had stopped and called the students to attention.

“Today, we will be conducting an exercise not in fighting Grimm, but in tracking and conducting reconnaissance on them,” Professor Lautrec announced.  “It is not always a hunter’s duty simply to eliminate Grimm.  Sometimes they provide others with the information necessary to do so.  Some of you may come to specialize in this line of work, but for those of you who do not, you must still be able to assess the number and location of Grimm within your chosen area.  For the next hour, I simply want you to put your skills to use in locating, tracking, or taking account of Grimm populations.  You may work alone, with your team, or with members of other teams.  Good luck, and ever upward.”

The exercise was music to Citrine’s ears.  The chance to work alone?  With real Grimm?  Now, that was something she could get behind.  However, as she took off into the forest, she couldn’t help but notice that Torque, Royal, and Ware were still following her, which was a little confusing.  She was certain that after yesterday, they’d want nothing to do with her.  Before she could ask them about it though, she noticed Perdita and Reed from Team PPPR tagging along with Ware, and she chickened out from saying anything.

“So, Ware, how’re you doing?” Perdita asked, clinging to Ware’s left elbow.

Ware, who had been about as stoic and absent-minded as Citrine that day, appeared to inflate and activate into interaction mode.  “I’m doing quite well,” he said.  “After all, a new day, a new chance to prove my mettle.”

“Haha, metal, I get it,” Reed giggled.  “Like your silver.”

Even as distracted as she was, Citrine had the presence of mind to cringe.  If Ware wasn’t doing the same internally, then she was certain she had lost all respect for him.

“Anyway, I just wanted to make sure,” Perdita continued on.  “I heard your team was having a little… _trouble_ lately.  Some… _disagreements,_ hm?”

Seriously, Reed was dumb as a brick and Perdita was so just insidious, always trying to worm her way into Ware’s head.  Citrine had to wonder how Ware could stand to be around these people, especially after he had chewed her out just yesterday for being a vain and self-centered human.

“Oh, it wasn’t anything too bad,” Ware assured her.  “You know, every team has their disagreements now and then.  We all get through them eventually.”

“Well, if you say so,” Perdita purred, “but just so you know, if you ever do have more issues, don’t be afraid to hang out with Team PPPR a little more.  You don’t have to hang out with the riffraff if you don’t want to.”

Ahead of her, Citrine’s ears began to burn. 

“That’s…that’s a very kind offer,” Ware said slowly, “but—”

“Like, I know that leader of yours drives you crazy, and not in a good way,” Perdita said, apparently abandoning all subtlety.  “Honestly, I hear she even drives herself crazy.”

Her hand itched to grab Harbinger.

“And that weirdo partner of yours?” Perdita laughed.  “Like, why even bother?  She’s such a—EEK!”

The girl squealed as Citrine abruptly spun and grabbed her by the collar of her shirt.  Looming over her, furiously red in the face, she shouted, “Say that again!  Just try and say that again!”

Perdita blanched and began to stammer uncontrollably in a blind panic.  “I—wh-wh—I—”

“You don’t get to talk about my teammates like that!” Citrine shouted.  “Not now, not _ever_ , you weak-willed, disgusting piece of—”

“Citrine!” Royal called out suddenly.  “Your semblance!”

She stopped suddenly and looked at her hands.  She realized then she’d been accidentally draining plant life, with all the grass around her already dry and cracked, and if she’d gotten a little more agitated, she could have accidentally fired all that energy straight into Perdita’s face.  Citrine let the girl go.  She and her teammate fled the scene with Perdita cursing out the “freaks” she was leaving behind.

Beginning to shake with the contained energy, Citrine looked at her teammates and found them all staring at her in shock.  Was it shock?  She was having trouble telling.  Maybe it was fear because once again, she’d let her anger get the best of her.  She had ruined things _again_.

“I’m—I’m sorry, guys,” Citrine stammered, beginning to back off at a stumbling pace.  “I’ll go.  I’ll finish this on my own.”  She turned her back on them and took off running through the forest.

Citrine ran.  She ran and ran and ran.  She let herself become oblivious of her surroundings.  She let her lungs burn.  She let her legs ache.  She tried to ignore the thoughts that chased her, matching her step for step.

_What is wrong with me?  Why do I keep screwing up?  Why can’t I get anything right?  Why is everything so hard?_

_What is wrong with me?_

Then, when she could run no more, she threw her hands out in front of her and let out a massive blast of energy as well as a powerful scream.  When both had dissipated, there were fewer whole trees in front of her, but she felt no better.  Just unbelievably tired.

And, when she realized she’d let herself lose track of where she was in an unfamiliar, Grimm-infested area before letting off a very loud beacon, she began to feel unbelievably stupid as well.

“Shoot,” she hissed, drawing Harbinger with shaking hands.  “Shoot, shoot, shoot.”  Looking around, she tried to check for any obvious signs of Grimm, but really, it was hard to do when her own attack had already damaged the area more than any Grimm could.  Giving up on that pursuit, Citrine tried to head back down the path she had just run from.

Unfortunately, there was already a trio of beowolves waiting there, following her scent trail.

Citrine froze, facing them down.  _Don’t panic,_ she tried to tell herself.  _They don’t even see you yet.  You’ve dealt with worse before.  You’re literally in your element.  You can—_

There was barely a snarl of warning before Citrine felt a painful clawing blow against her back that sent her flying into a tree trunk.  Shaking and wincing with pain, she tried to recover quickly and get back up on her feet, but there were already four beowolves beginning to close in on her, as well as the three others approaching from the path.  Staring down her enemies, she began to drain energy to her hand, hoping the forest could allot her enough to get out of here alive.

One of the beowolves leapt at her.  Then, a figure fell from the sky with a mighty bellow and plunged their sword through the head of the Grimm.  Crushing its neck with his landing, Royal looked at Citrine, grinning and extremely proud of himself, and said, “Look, Citrine!  First confirmed kill!  Oh, goodness!”

Another pair of beowolves leapt at them, only for both of them to be shot through the head with arrows that sent tongues of fire spreading through their bodies.  Citrine caught sight of Ware perched atop a tree branch, already taking aim again.

The rest of the pack turned their attention to him, as well as Torque, standing on the ground beside his tree.  She had Výthisi with her, but in a new form.  It seemed the bright orange toolbox had been split into a pair of heavy duty mechanical gauntlets that Torque now wore, along with a new expression of righteous fury.

“Get away, you stupid mutts!” she shouted and then launched herself at the beowolves.  When she clenched her fists to punch, there was a brief blast of rocket propulsion at the back of the gauntlets to lend her extra power and momentum.  Her fist soared straight through the head of one beowolf before she uppercut another.  The rest of the Grimm were quickly disposed of, leaving Citrine in a clearing of disintegrating monsters and a few hunters-in-training who seemed to have forgotten the meaning of personal space.

“Citrine, Citrine, did you see that?” Royal asked, vibrating with excitement as he knelt by her side.  “I took out that Grimm all on my own.  All on my own!  No assist, no coaching, no cowering, no nothing!  Just me and my blade raining justice from above!  How exciting!  Isn’t it exciting?”

“Are you hurt?” Torque asked, securing Citrine’s hands between her gauntlets as if she was afraid she might run off again.  “Did the beowolves hit you?  I’ll call Professor Lautrec out here if I have to.  I know our scrolls are supposed to be disabled during training missions, but their safety gates to keep us out are nothing; I can crack them in a second.”

“Geez.”  Ware let out a huff and stared down at her with an expression that was one part bemusement, one part genuine relief.  “Aren’t you supposed to be our sensible leader and all that?  Not like you to just go running off.”

Surrounded by the excitement, attention, and affection of her teammates, Citrine could only think of one thing to say as tears began to form in the corners of her eyes.  “Why are you guys being so nice to me?” she asked, her voice cracking.  They looked at her in surprise as she went on, “After yesterday…after all the stuff I said to you… _about_ you—I thought you guys would hate me by now.”

“ _Hate you?_   Certainly not _hate you,_ ” Royal insisted with absolutely certainty.  “Perhaps a little annoyed, yes, but I’m certain that’s no less than you can claim to say about me on rare occasions.  It doesn’t change the fact that you’re still my partner.”

“While you may have been out of line yesterday, I admit, I…may have been just as quick as you with my judgments,” Ware admitted.  “You’re still our leader.”

Torque looked Citrine straight in the eye to ensure she knew she meant it.  She smiled slightly and said, “You’re still my friend.”

Citrine sniffed and swallowed hard, almost overcome with disbelief, but with love for her friends winning out in the end.  “I’m so sorry for everything I said yesterday,” she said.  “I just—it hasn’t been easy for me to adjust coming here, and I just feel like I’ve been under so much pressure, and-and Ware, you were right.  I was frustrated with myself and I had Skull stuck in my head and I took it out on you and _Torque,_ your new weapon is _so cool_ and so worth it and I’m sorry I ever doubted you and—”

“Alright, alright, I’m sure we all understand,” Royal said soothingly.  “But really, you’ve got to stop letting your mouth get ahead of your little brain.  I’m not sure you even know how much you talk sometimes.  For example, just the other day, when…”

He continued on as Torque helped Citrine to her feet.  Together, they made their way back to Professor Lautrec, who promptly gave their leader first aid as well as a stern lecture on utilizing her time in class exercises more efficiently.

They waited for the rest of the teams to return together.  They flew back on the air bus to Haven together.  They even ate dinner together that night, all four of them, for the first time in two weeks.  Perdita didn’t dare try to sneak Ware away with Citrine around.

They might have even gone to bed together once again if Citrine didn’t suddenly receive a notification on her scroll and excuse herself from the table early.

“What?  Who even texted you?” Royal demanded.  “Who do you even talk to at this school aside from us?”

“Don’t worry about it, guys,” Citrine said as she waved them off.  “It’s just a little something I need to take care of.  I’ll be back later tonight.”

Citrine left the dining hall and began the slow ascent up the many floors of Haven’s main building.  At dinner time, it was quiet in much of the rest of the school.  Her head was quiet as well, for the first time in days, and she felt uplifted with a sense of certainty.

On the top floor of the building, she came to a large pair of doors with an intricate carving of a dragon spread across the both of them.  She knocked on the door twice and a voice from within called out, “You may enter.”  Head up and shoulders back proudly, Citrine let herself in.

Seated across from her behind a large, metallic desk was Professor Quildrake.  The woman was reclining slightly in her chair and she met Citrine’s gaze evenly.  She had been expecting her, after all.

“Hello, Vermoss,” Professor Quildrake greeted her.  “I received your message.  You said there was something you needed to speak to me about?”

Closing the doors behind her, Citrine nodded.  “Yes, professor,” she said.  “I’d like you to remove me as the leader of Team RWCT.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot twist! Whup!


	7. Only Human (Or Faunus, as the Case May Be)

There was a lot to see inside of Professor Quildrake’s office.  Citrine had often assumed, due to her modest appearance and the seemingly simple nature of her weapon, that Haven’s headmaster’s office might reflect her attitude.  However, if anything, her office seemed overstuffed.  The wall behind Quildrake’s desk was almost entirely covered with shields and banners bearing different emblems, some of which she recognized from the weapons and clothing of her professors.  To the right, there was an expansive landscape painting of a sprawling ancient city built around a towering castle.  To the left, there was a round table ready to seat a baker’s dozen, possibly in case of emergency war meetings.  And in the small window behind Quildrake’s head, Citrine thought she could see massive gears turning in a dark room.

She wondered if she was just trying to take everything in Quildrake’s office in to avoid the question the headmaster herself had just posed.

“Did I hear that correctly, Vermoss?  That you want to be removed as the leader of your team?”

Citrine came back to attention to force herself to answer.  “Yes, that’s correct,” she said with certainty.

Quildrake made a bridge with her fingers and considered her carefully.  To Citrine’s annoyance, she seemed more bemused by the request than concerned or surprised.  “Well, that certainly is a unique request, though not totally unprecedented,” she said.  “Tell me, what is it that makes you think you’re unfit to lead?”

“Where do I even start?” Citrine grumbled, then remembering she was speaking to the head of her school, cleared her throat and tried again.  “I feel as though the last three weeks, I’ve brought nothing to my team.  I haven’t been able to inspire them or train them or help them work together more cohesively.  Moreover, the pressures of trying to be that leader they need lately have been getting to me.  I’ve been impatient and short-tempered and violent in ways I’ve never been before, and it’s led me to lash out at them.  I feel like if I’m in charge, I’m just going to continue to drag them down, and they’re too good for me to do that to them, professor.  They deserve better than me.”

While this decision had been spurred by the events of the last few days, Citrine had been questioning her position as a leader ever since the ceremony.  In her life with the commune, she had always been the least experienced person, the one most uncertain of herself.  While this had always made her want to better herself, she had never aspired to take that power of leadership away from Robin or the rest of Team RNBW.  The last few days had only confirmed that she wasn’t fit to be a leader and this past afternoon had only confirmed that her team deserved better than an unfit leader.

“That does seem to be a laundry list of issues,” Quildrake nodded.  “Before we discuss this any further, do you have a suggestion for who you would rather have take your place?”

Citrine hesitated a moment.  “I thought you would make that decision, professor,” she said.

“I do have to approve all roster changes, but usually, that just means deciding how to divide up and reassign teams with members who have either dropped out or died,” she said.  “On rare occasions like these, I feel input from the current leader is necessary.  If you do not have what Team RWCT needs, then surely you know who _does_.”

“Well,” she said thoughtfully, “it definitely shouldn’t be Royal.  He’s strong, but he didn’t have any real combat experience before coming here, and even though he’s been getting better about facing real Grimm, he still tends to get either panicky or distracted in battle."

Quildrake nodded.  “Go on.”

“And…I don’t think it should be Torque,” she said.  “As much as I love her, she’s not great at communicating, and she doesn’t have much initiative when it comes to fighting.  She’s great for support, but I don’t think she would be good at leading in battles.”

“Yes, so…?”

“So, I suppose the best choice would be Ware,” Citrine said.  “He’s smart, he’s fast, he’s got a versatile weapon, and he seems like he can get along with anyone, which is what I’m struggling with most.  So yeah, I would choose Ware.”

“Unequivocally?” Quildrake prompted her.  “Would there be no downsides to choosing him?”

“Well,” Citrine murmured, “there’s a lot I admire about him, but…even though he gets along with everyone, he’s not a very personable person.  Even after weeks of living together, he hasn’t really opened up to us.  I’m actually pretty sure he’s still trying to decide if he even trusts us or not.  I mean, the guy hasnt even told us what his semblance is yet.  Plus, his whole fighting style relies on working from a distance which has its advantages for strategizing, but in terms of leading in battle, it—”

“So, what I’m hearing,” Quildrake cut her off as she started on a roll, “is that each of your teammates who might be considered as the new leader has flaws of their own, and the only reason you think you should be removed from this position is that you are just as human as they are, and just as flawed as they are.”

Her cheeks began to flush as she tried to wriggle her way out from this corner.  “No, I’m worse!” she insisted.  “I’m so much worse, and all my screw-ups over the last three weeks just prove it.  And I know what you’re going to say next.  ‘Wouldn’t any of your teammates have made just as many mistakes?’  And maybe they would have, but they wouldn’t be nearly as bad as mine.  I shouldn’t be a leader.  I never _wanted_ to be a leader.”

Quildrake paused a moment as she considered this.  “Tell me, Vermoss,” she said.  “Do you want what’s best for your team?”

Citrine balked.  “What kind of question is that?  Of course I do!”

“And do you want to protect your teammates?” she asked.

“Of course!”

“And are you willing to do whatever it takes to do right by them and to ensure they are able to survive in this harsh world of ours?”

“Yes, I—I would do anything to help us survive,” she said, surprising herself with her words.  The day before coming to Haven, Citrine had been certain her loyalty would never extend beyond her family, but now she knew she would stand by her words.  She couldn’t help herself.  Torque, Royal, and Ware were her people now.  She would put her life on the line for those three.

“Well, that’s settled then,” Quildrake said, smiling out at her.  “You want to be leader, and all that entails in terms of guiding and protecting your teammates.”  Citrine let out a huff to begin arguing with her again, but Quildrake cut her off, saying, “Despite how it may feel, you are not the first hunter-in-training to struggle with leadership issues.  There were times during my own attendance of Haven when I felt the task too daunting to bear alone, and there have been many more times since my graduation when I have struggled as a leader of friends, allies, and students alike.  Three weeks is not nearly enough time to know that you will not succeed as a leader.  If you were so incompetent to have shown it in that little time, I don’t believe I would have selected you for the position in the first place, and I would have no qualms about removing you now.”

Citrine glanced aside, chewing her lip as she considered this.  “Even if that is true,” she said, “that still doesn’t help me now.  Even if my teammates don’t totally hate me, trying to lead them feels like trying to wrangle cats.  Every time I try to get them to do something that’s for the best of the team, I just can’t convince them to see things my way and we all end up scattered and angry at each other.”

“Now that is a very manageable problem,” Quildrake said.  “If there is any advice I can give you on leadership, it is that it is not simply based on blind trust.  You have to earn the right to have them follow your orders.  You may say that you know what’s right, but if you have yet to prove yourself capable of doing right by your teammates, then they have no reason to trust you on that.”

“But how am I supposed to prove I’m right if they won’t even give me the chance?” Citrine asked.

Quildrake smirked enigmatically.  “Perhaps they already have,” she said.  “You just need to be open to the opportunities.”

Citrine wanted to complain about Quildrake being vague and not completely helpful, but aside from the fact that she was still speaking to the headmaster, there were already thoughts beginning to swim in her head, memories from the past weeks.  When she thought about it, she realized even though her teammates appeared not to want any help from her, there were things she had heard, things she had seen that might have shown their hands regardless.

_“Yeah, I’m…I’m not gonna deal with that.”_

_“Yeah, you’re a pretty alright guy for a faunus.”_

_“Practice?  As in, now?  Sorry, but I must decline.”_

And as she thought about these things, a different image of her teammates sprang to Citrine’s mind; an image not of people who willfully ignored her advice because of pride or disinterest, but because they had issues just as real as hers and they were all issues that could do with a good airing out.

Whatever the case, it left Citrine with a clear plan of attack.  If the problem was something she could see, then it was something she could beat.

“I…I think I’ve got it now,” she said, cracking a hopeful smile at last.  “I think I know what to do.  Thank you, Professor Quildrake!  And sorry for taking up so much of your time.”

“No, it’s quite alright, Vermoss,” Quildrake said.  “I’m always happy to help a student out.  I honestly wish more of you would stop by.”

“Well, if I have any more problems after this, I’ll be sure to pay you a visit,” Citrine said, heading out the door.  “Until then!”

And then she was gone, out the doors and down the stairs, back towards her teammates where she belonged.  Quildrake listened to her go, wistful for her own bygone days as a carefree hunter-in-training and, despite everything, missing those who had both belonged to and torn apart her team.  Once she was alone again, Quildrake stood and strode past the shields before stopping by one in particular.  It was gray steel and largely unadorned, but for the indistinct patch of green in the middle, and she ran her fingers around its battle-worn and now dusty edges.

“You’d likely be pleased to know, Headmaster Vermoss,” Quildrake said softly, “that your namesake is quite the lively young woman.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I suppose Team RNBW had to get the name Vermoss from somewhere.


	8. Towards a Common Goal

“And that is why you should never, ever, ever, ever, _ever_ …EVER…stick your head in the mouth of a scaleback, no matter how dead you think it is or how much your teammates bet you,” Professor Lu said.  The entire class stared in disbelief as she replaced what was apparently a bright red wig over her extremely scarred scalp.  “That concludes our lecture for today!” she said cheerfully.  “Don’t forget to complete the readings on pages 130-155 and fill in the answer sheet.  Buh-bye!”

Citrine frowned as her classmates began to pick up their books and file out of the classroom.  “Well, that,” she said, “was an interesting lecture.  Professsor Lu’s really been in it, hasn’t she?”

Torque sniffed and shrugged.  “I guess,” she said.  “Anyway, later.”

It was the day after the almost disastrous training exercise and that night had been the first time in three days Citrine had slept in her own bed, as well as slept for more than four hours straight.  Although it had been comfortable to fall asleep knowing her teammates were sleeping soundly beside her and that they were all on good terms, she had awoken feeling significantly less rested and refreshed than expected.  In fact, without the adrenaline and anxiety of the past few days driving her anymore, Citrine had gone the whole day feeling drained and looking like it too.  Royal had pointed this out on multiple occasions, while also suggesting face creams and various make-up remedies for her tired-looking face.

Yet, there had been a sense of determination inside her, burning anew, to help keep her afloat.  Citrine wasn’t going down any time soon, because she had a new plan and it started here, at the end of the last class of the day.

Normally, at this point, Team RWCT would break up with the each member going about their own business.  From their seats closer to the front of the room, she could already see Ware and Royal headed out together, presumably with Ware off to greet his fans and Royal off to do whatever it was would make him feel Royal-enough for the day.  Torque started off as well, presumably to her workshop to smooth out the kinks in Výthisi’s new design, but Citrine tapped her on the shoulder to catch her attention before she could leave.

“Hey, Torque?” Citrine said.  “Do you mind if I ask you something?”

“Um.  Sure?”  Torque seemed a little uncertain as she sat back down and quickly asked, “Is this about all the new stuff on your scroll?  Because I did add some things, but only because it was so bare-bones otherwise.  You hadn’t even changed your background or added pictures to your contacts.  And you didn’t have any games.”

“Wh—my?”  Citrine half reached for the device in her belt, then decided against that.  “Never mind.  My scroll’s not important right now.”

“It really should be.  Scrolls are kind of important,” Torque said.  “Also, yours has a really weak passcode.  I can fix that for you too, if you like.”

“Uh, maybe later.  Look, Torque, there’s something from yesterday I wanted to talk to you about,” Citrine said.  “Before I ran off and got caught by those beowolves, Perdita was hanging around and saying some rude stuff.  Do you remember that?”

Torque swallowed and cast her eyes to the floor.  “Yeah, I remember.”

“And before that, you took one look at Perdita and her friends, and you said you didn’t want to go anywhere near them,” she went on.  “If I had to guess why, I would say it’s because…those guys have bullied you before?”

Her silence and her shrug were confirmation enough.

“Torque, is that why you’ve been going straight to the workshop every day?” Citrine asked, her voice soft, her expression sympathetic.  “Because you didn’t want to have to face them?”

Torque hesitated, struggling to find her words for a moment, before slowly saying, “I mean, not entirely.  I’ve always liked working on machines.  I’m probably only in there a little more than I was back at Sanctum.”  She let out a sigh and quietly added, “But I’m probably only being made fun of a little more than I was back at Sanctum too.”

Citrine reached out and gently grabbed one of Torque’s hands.  “I’m sorry, Torque,” she said.  “I should’ve noticed sooner.”  She felt like kicking herself over this.  Over the past few weeks, she’d noticed a number of backhanded comments left on Hearth directed at Ware’s intrusive, and less desirable teammates.  Perdita had been less than cordial with Citrine, just for being associated with Ware.  She should have guessed she would be even crueler with Ware’s own partner.

Torque shrugged again.  “It’s fine.  You got there eventually, which is more than I can say for most people,” she said.  “It’s just the kind of thing I’ve been dealing with for years, and it never bothered me before, hanging out in the workshop to avoid people like that.  It’s just…”  She bit her lip.  “It’s just that now, I have friends I’m letting down when I do that, and…and that’s been bugging me.”

“And I get that now,” Citrine said.  “You care about the team just as much as the rest of us, even if you can’t always be with us, and I’m guessing that even when you’re alone, you’re always working on something that helps RWCT out.”

“Well.”  Torque raised her eyebrows.  “You could say that, sure.”

“If that’s the case,” she said, smirking slightly, “how about if I said I could make sure Perdita and her gang never bothered any of us again?”

Torque said, “I'd say I was interested.  You think you can do that though?”

“I don’t know!” Citrine exclaimed.  “But let’s track down Ware and find out!”

After heading out of the classroom, the two girls found Ware still on his way to the library.  As usual, he was surrounded by his pack of fans, all of them chattering at him animatedly with their leader, Perdita, directing the conversation and hanging off his arm.  As usual, Ware seemed only passingly present, even with half a dozen fans around.

“Am I going to have to talk to them?” Torque asked quietly as they approached the group.

“Nope,” Citrine said, grinning.  “I’ve got this handled.  Hey!  Perdy!” 

Perdita barely had time to look around at who had called to her before Citrine rushed up behind her and punched her hard enough to send her flying backwards down the hall.

Everyone in the group, Ware among them, stared at Citrine in slack-jawed disbelief.  It was just fortunate that the rest of them were all so distracted, or else they might have noticed that Ware’s disbelief was only a second away from splitting into smiles and laughter.  Seeing this, Citrine put on her best expression of unhinged fury and began to spit.

“See that?  See that, you dumb sons of beowolves?” she shouted at Ware’s entourage, pointing towards Perdita’s crumpled form.  “That’s what you get for messing with my team.  That’s what you get for badmouthing me and my best friend.  That’s what you get for being a bunch of simpering idiots, thinking that guy over there’s all hot stuff and taking up his time, when I’m the one trying to turn him into someone halfway useful!” 

She took another step forward, getting right into the face of Perdita’s partner, Reed, and growling, “So get this: come anywhere near any member of my team again and you’ll be getting ten times what Perdita got today.  I’ll make you wish you never set foot in Haven and send you back to your mama in pieces.  Got it?”  With Reed staring at her, frozen in fear, Citrine rounded on the entire group.  She drew Harbinger’s Almanac and brandished it at them, screaming, “ _Got it?_ ”

“Y-yes, ma’am!” Griffin Bogs squeaked.  “Never again, no ma’am!”

Citrine grinned at them manically, channeling her inner Skull.  “Good,” she hissed, “now collect your trash and get out of my sight.”

As the group scrambled away to pick up Perdita, Citrine grabbed Ware by the arm and started pulling him in the opposite direction.  She gave him a silent wink when he looked for a cue, allowing him to start loudly and pointedly shouting, “You’re not going to get away with this forever, Vermoss!  Those are fans of mine, and you can’t treat my fans like this!  I’ll get away and—”

“They’re gone,” Torque reported, once the group disappeared around the corner. 

“Really?” Ware asked, dropping into a relieved expression.  “Thank goodness.  I can’t _stand_ those people.”

“I figured as much,” Citrine said, falling in step beside him.  “If you were willing to turn your nose up at me for blowing up at you guys once, I realized you couldn’t actually _enjoy_ having to spend day after day with humans like that.”

“Well, thank you for finally figuring that out,” he said.  “It should please you to hear I can actually get back to training on my own terms without having to look over my shoulder for them every two seconds.”

“You and Torque both,” Citrine reminded him.  “Hopefully, they won’t be coming near either of you any time soon.”

A moment of silence fell over the group and when Citrine chanced a glance at Ware’s expression, she saw something new there: guilt.  His own eyes trained on the ground, he quietly admitted, “I knew…I knew that they were saying things about Torque.  You and Royal too.  I let them get away with it.  I wanted to tell them to stop, but—”

“But you were trying to protect your image?” she supplied.  “Turns out you’re a bit like Royal after all.”  When he stared at her with an expression of mortal offense, she quickly added, “I mean, we all are.  I’m prideful like him.  Torque’s got self-interests like him.  And you and him both have your images to look after.  But, it turns out, that’s not the worst thing in the world.  After all,” she glanced up at his fox ears, “you’re a faunus.  I’m guessing it means a lot to you to be _loved_ by the masses instead of reviled for a change.”

“That is…”  Ware raised his eyebrows curiously.  “That is surprisingly astute.  More than I expected from my country bumpkin friend,” he said. 

“And I’m guessing you would have done the right thing eventually,” she went on, though his compliment did add a little skip to her step.  “I think you’ve got too many principles to let a bunch of bullies push around you and your partner forever, but if you wanna take a little longer to be liked, then hey.”  She winked up at him again.  “I’m fine with playing the villain until you’re ready.  I’ve got your back.”

Ware’s expression softened and affectionately, he said, “You’re never going to let me stop changing my assessment of you, are you?”

“Oh, I dunno,” Citrine said, elbowing him playfully.  “I wouldn’t mind if the ‘surprisingly astute’ thing stuck for a while.”

“Hey, where’re we heading now?” Torque asked, bumping Citrine’s leg with Výthisi. 

“Off to find Royal now, I assume,” Ware said.  “Do you have any clue of where he is, Citrine?”

“I think I do,” she said.  “Though getting to him will go a lot easier if Torque knows how to pick a lock.”

Torque claimed that she did, in fact, know how to pick a lock, but she didn’t have the tools on hand needed to secure their entry.  However, it turned out that in the face of the locked door of Professor Wine’s classroom, her hammer could achieve roughly the same effect.

“Hey, are we going to have to pay for this?” Citrine asked briefly before they destroyed school property.

“Don’t worry,” Torque assured her, readying her swing.  “I’ll cover it.”  Then she smashed through the doorknob, as well as most of the door, allowing them in.

Inside Professor Wine’s classroom, a room filled with mechanisms and devices the professor built and used to help train his students, there were a number of parts already in motion, from spears jutting back and forth out of the wall to a dummy on a track shooting bullets at random intervals.  There, in the middle of it all was Royal, looking shocked to have been caught swinging his sword around and sweating through an undershirt, which was more naked than he had allowed anyone to see him yet.

“Oh,” Royal said simply, staring at his teammates like a deer caught in the headlights.  He quickly sheathed his sword, as if that would hide anything about his situation, and attempted to posture.  “Why, hello there, friends!  How nice of you to—”

There was a BANG behind him as the dummy let out a shot.  Citrine was already reaching for Harbinger, expecting to have to deflect the bullet, but before it came to that, Royal had already drawn his sword again and sent it ricocheting into the wall.  Her eyebrows raised in surprise at his reflexes even as he blushed, apparently embarrassed just for being found out.

“I’ll just…turn these off then, shall I?” he asked gesturing around at the room’s moving parts.

“Please do so,” Ware said politely.

With all the death machines turned off, Team RWCT shut what remained of the door as best they could, pulled four chairs out into the middle of the room, and sat together in a close-knit circle.  As they began to discuss the situation at hand, Citrine decided to sit back and let her teammates try to sort this one out themselves.

“But I don’t see why you thought you had to hide _this_ , of all things,” Ware said.  “I think everyone has the right to keep secrets, but training?  This is literally the one thing Citrine wanted us to do.”

“Yes, but you see, Ware,” Royal said, placing a hand on Ware’s shoulder condescendingly, “she wanted to do this _her_ way.  I preferred to do it _my_ way.”

“What’s your way?” Torque asked.

Royal hissed, hesitating slightly.  “Well,” he led, “mostly…doing it alone so that all of you wouldn’t have to see certain… _improvements_ I need to make with my form.” 

“Yes, but you see, Royal,” Ware said, returning his gesture with an even greater amount of condescension, “we already _knew_ you were terrible.  You didn’t need to hide that from us.”

Okay, maybe leaving sympathy up to Ware had not been the best idea.  “You _have_ been getting better though,” Citrine put in.  Locking eyes with him, she said.  “Your reflexes were a lot better in the obstacle course, and you were the first person to throw yourself at those Grimm yesterday.”

Royal’s expression brightened at her compliment, even as Torque grumbled, “I would’ve been first, but he used his semblance to cheat.”

“Thank you for noticing, Citrine,” he said.  “I have been putting a great effort in the past few weeks to improve myself, because I—I knew I didn’t have the experience to match what your untamed lifestyle has brought to you.”  When she gave him a skeptical look, Royal was quick to insist, “Really, it’s just experience I need!  I spent almost as much time as Torque did at Sanctum training with the swordsmaster my mother hired and trying to hone my semblance.  It’s just the actual combat I never really had a chance to try.  There was no one my age I could practice with, so it’s just a little awkward for me to try to start now.”

In an odd moment, Citrine could start to see a parallel between herself and each of her teammates.  In some way, they had all been isolated for a long time.  Torque had been bullied into silence at her previous academy, leading her to shut herself away.  Ware had millions of fans and followers, but it seemed he hadn’t liked any of them.  And though it had been due to very different circumstances, both she and Royal had been without any friends growing up.  It was starting to make sense why they had worked so badly as a team.  Apparently, none of them knew how to be open with other people their age.

Well, Citrine was team leader.  If she wanted to see that change, then she was going to have start making that happen herself.

“Royal, I want you to know that if you do need help training, I’ll be here for you.  I’m actually hoping that we can all start working together more now,” Citrine said earnestly, “and because of that, I…have something I want to tell you all as well.”  She let out a deep breath as their attention turned to her. 

 _Here goes._  

“So, you all know by now that I’ve got kind of a weird family situation.  I was raised by a whole hunting commune instead of any couple of people,” she said.  “What you don’t know is that the reason I live like that is that…that I was abandoned in the woods as a baby.  Probably to die.  Probably by my birth parents.  I literally don’t even know.  Whatever the case, it left me with this feeling that I am…kind of… _disposable_.  That if I’m not being useful or being what people need me to be, then they can just throw me away.  And because I feel like that, I’ve always pushed myself to be my best; to be a hunter worthy of the family business.  For me, it’s always been a matter of necessity.” 

She picked her head up and stared around at her teammates with renewed energy, her yellow eyes practically glowing.  “But I don’t want just necessity anymore!” she exclaimed.  “This is the first time in my life when I’ve been able to fight for prestige, and _I like it_.  I’ve got pride in my record, even though it’s bad, and I’ve got pride in my team, even though it—it could be better.  The point is, I believe in us.  I want to make Team RWCT the best team in Haven’s history.  And I want to prove it with this.”

Citrine reached into her belt, pulling out a red and gold brochure and handing it to Royal.  “The Vytal Festival Tournament?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

She nodded.  “I talked to Professor Lautrec about it last night,” Citrine said.  “She said the in-school qualifying matches are in another few weeks.  We’d be fighting other first-year teams, and if we won, we would get sent to Vale and study at Beacon for the rest of the semester and then fight in the tournament.”  When her teammates exchanged tentative glances instead of agreeing, Citrine tried to hype them up, saying, “Come on!  Travel to Vale!  I’ve never been to Vale before!  Doesn’t that sound exciting to you guys?”

“I’m an international pop star, remember?” Ware pointed out.  “I’ve been to Vale many times and, to be honest, it’s kind of boring.”

“I have to agree with Ware here,” Royal nodded.  “Mistral's culture may be inaccessible to many, but at least its streets have the thrilling possibility of getting you stabbed waiting just around certain corners.  Vale on the other hand is just rather… _bland_.”

“Agreed,” Torque agreed.

Citrine rolled her eyes.  “Fine, but even if you jerks wanna spoil my fun on that, it’s still a good goal for us to have,” she insisted.  “And if we make it to the tournament—if we can make it to the finals, then we can show everyone what I know: that _we are the best_.”

This was not, in fact, something she knew, or even really believed, and even saying it made her feel uneasy.  If that wasn’t enough to sway her teammates, Citrine was certain she was about to feel very stupid.  However, every member seemed to be contemplating the offer, particularly her partner, who was staring intently at the brochure.

“You know, even though I’ve been aiming for Haven for years,” Royal said quietly, his head down, “I don’t think my parents expect me to follow through.  They think my wanting to be a hunter thing is just a phase, and any day now, I’ll be home to learn the family business.  They say every time I call, that it’s no shame if I dropped it out.”  The brochure crumpled slightly in his hands as he said, “And it’s _frustrating_ to hear that time and time again, because they clearly don’t understand how much I want to be here.”  He looked up abruptly, his blue-gray eyes bright with determination, and said, “Citrine, if you think this will prove our worth, then I will do everything within my power to take us there.”

Torque took the brochure from him next, turning it over in her hands a few times, her expression betraying nothing.  “So, in case you guys didn’t know, I’m also pretty rich,” she said finally.

“Wait, _what?_ ” Citrine exclaimed, staring at her in wide-eyed shock. 

“Yeah, probably like…at least as rich as Royal,” she added.

“Wait, _WHAT?_ ” Royal shouted, flushing with the indignity of it.

“Yeah, well, my grandmother founded the Usi Parts and Ammo Corporation,” Torque explained.  “We manufacture spare parts, materials, and ammunition for hunters’ weapons, armed air ships, automated guards; pretty much everything with moving parts that shoots things.  We actually have contracts with all the schools except for Atlas.  They’re not super big on imports.”

“But—but I’ve never even heard about any sort of Usi company,” Citrine protested. 

“Y’ever gotten a delivery at the commune from UPAC?” Torque asked.  “Seen all those crates in the workshop with UPAC on the side?  That’s us.”

She stared in disbelief as she fit the letters together.  “So just—so just every other member of my team is ridiculously rich?” she demanded.  “Guys, what is wrong with this picture?  I’m your leader, and I can’t even afford a new shirt!”

“Wait, you can’t?” Royal asked.  “Oh, you should have said something, Citrine.  Just tell me when you want to go into town.  I’ll buy you as many peasant’s shirts as you like.”

“I could do that too, because also rich,” Torque said, an undoubtedly competitive edge in her voice.  “But yeah, anyway, it was my uncle who inherited grandma’s company, it’ll be my cousins who inherit after him, and there’s still my big brother and sister who would inherit before me.  I don’t really _have_ to do anything with my life.  No one’s ever expected me to.  I even went to Sanctum partly just so I could get away from my family for a bit.  Before I came to Haven, the only thing that even interested me about hunting was modifying my weapon.”  She shrugged slightly and admitted, “But then I met Citrine…Ware…”

“Royal?” Royal added.

“We’re actually not that close,” Torque told him bluntly.  “We don’t talk much.  But you are part of this team, I guess, and this team is what made me want to try.  RWCT made me want to actually be a good hunter, not just have a good weapon or learn from the experience of hunting.  I need to test myself, not just my mechanical skills, and if I can do that at the Vytal Festival Tournament, I will."

All eyes turned to Ware, who himself had been quietly observing the conversation.  He smirked slightly.  “Is it my turn now to take the brochure, reveal my heartfelt desire, and swear my intent?” he asked.

“Well, it’d be nice if you gave us _something_ ,” Citrine said.  “Come on, we’re pouring our hearts out here.”  Personally, she still had her fingers crossed for a semblance reveal. 

“Fine,” he said.  “I will put forth my full effort in getting us to the Vytal Festival Tournament.  After all, you are a much more decent gang than I’m used to being around.  I wouldn’t mind helping us reach a common goal.”  His eyes narrowed slightly as he added, “I also know I wouldn’t mind having a new stage from which to show the world that the Ware Sterling who danced for their entertainment is no more.” 

Admittedly, that wasn’t as open and inspiring as the rest of the team’s statements, but after all, this was Ware, the boy who had been holding back since day one.  It was a start.

Citrine stared around at her team, at last united under one banner, at last beginning to work as a team, at last beginning to be something she could be proud to lead.

It was a start.

She stood up, drew Harbinger’s Almanac, and slammed the butt of her weapon onto the floor.  “Alright, Team RWCT!” she shouted, grinning broadly.  “Group practice starts now!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is, finally a group practice! See, Citrine? That wasn't so hard! Just took an extra three days, six chapters, and two near death experiences.


	9. For Something Completely Different

“Good, Royal, that’s good!  Bend your knees a little more, but keep it up!” Citrine called out encouragingly.

The sound of Royal exchanging blows with Ware in a practice match while Torque tested the transformation speed of Výthisi against alternating attack dummies was music to her ears.  For three days straight, Team RWCT had been practicing together in Professor Wine’s classroom, and Citrine was already beginning to see an improvement not only in skill, but in camaraderie.  The four of them had been spending more and more time together, even outside of practice, and it seemed to help tune them into each other's rhythms.

“You know, I am really enjoying this new leadership style of yours, Citrine.  Very supportive,” Royal said as he blocked another blow from Ware’s knives.  “Positive reinforcement, yes ma’am!  It’s what I’ve always responded to best.”

“I agree,” Ware said, smiling.  Citrine couldn’t help but think she’d been seeing him do that in earnest a lot more often ever since they started practicing together.  “You make a much better Citrine than you do a Skull-Citrine.”

“Ugh, can we just…never talk about that again?” she laughed, smiling sheepishly.  “I don’t even know what made me think that was a good idea.  Probably sleep deprivation.”

“Yeah, Skull is—”  Torque smashed her hammer into the practice dummy, knocking its head off.  “Skull is not a good person.”

“I mean, I kind of hate him and pretty much everything he does and stands for, and pretty much the sight of him makes my stomach turn to molten lead, but I’m not sure that makes him _bad_ ,” Citrine said.  “He can’t be all bad if he’s a good hunter.”

“No,” Torque said flatly.  “He’s bad.  And someday, that’s gonna come around on him and his team.”

Skull himself could not have disagreed more or cared less about Torque’s opinion.  He usually didn’t care about anyone’s opinion, mostly because he felt he didn’t need to.  After all, he was the top-performing leader and his team was the top-performing team in the first-year class.  His accomplishments spoke for themselves.  If anyone had an opinion that said otherwise, he knew it was only because of their own jealousy and pathetic sense of inferiority.

As far as battle performance went, he could usually say the same for the rest of Team SCUL as well.  Outside of battle, though—

“For the last time, Carmine!” Umbra shouted, slamming her fists on the breakfast table.  “We agreed on _rules!_   We agreed on _punishments_ for breaking those rules!  And if you keep letting your stuffed animals spill into my quarter, I’m going to break your legs.”

“Well, I guess we did agree on that,” Carmine laughed.

“And I’m giving all your stuffed animals to Garnet for target practice.”

“Umbra, noooo!” Carmine whined, flopping over the table and her plate full of bacon and sausages pitifully.  “They’re innocent civilians!  Don’t punish them for my sins!”

“Then don’t leave them in a position to be punished!”

“Umbra, Carmine, please,” Lux said as she picked up her cup of coffee to keep it from being knocked over.  “Inside voices at breakfast.  Or just in general, if you’re going to use them for matters so trivial.”

“I’m not overreacting!  Carmine is the one being a slob!” Umbra snapped accusatorily.  “Why aren’t you agreeing with me on this?  Why don’t you _ever_ agree with me on _anything?_ ”

“Perhaps if you ever made an agreeable point, I would,” Lux replied coldly.

It was times like these when Skull felt he would be doing the world a favor if he drop-kicked these people off a cliff.

“Y’all can just follow Lux on this,” Skull growled as he bit into his toast, “and _shut up_.”

The three of them followed his order, returning to their food in silence.  Then Carmine leaned far over the table to Umbra and Lux’s side and quietly hissed, “Hey.  Hey guys.  Have you seen—”

“Carmine!” Skull snapped.  “In what universe does shut your mouth mean talk quieter?”

“Well, I’m _sorry_ , Skully,” Carmine said, “but I really wanted to know if they’d seen how Team RWCT was doing lately!  They just look really happy nowadays!”

Skull’s lip curled up at the sound of their name.  “Probably because their loser leader finally accepted what a useless piece of trash she is,” he said.  “Probably finally convinced her teammates to accept they’re all failures too.  If you’re actually that weak, there’s happiness in that, y’know.”

Umbra and Lux exchanged a look—a look Skull was starting to notice more and more often.  Those two fought like cats and dogs, but they were damn good at communicating without words.

“What?” Skull demanded, glaring at them.  “Spill it.”

“Oh, nothing,” Lux said with a mischievous smile.  “We just think that, given how much you talk about her, you would actually be quite bored if Citrine gave up and dropped out.”

Skull’s insides clenched in agitation and he slowly rose to his feet to loom over his teammates.  He began to hiss, “You wanna say that again?” but was cut off when the scroll in his pocket began to buzz.  He took it out and looked at the message there.  “We’re picking this up later,” Skull announced.  “Right now, we’ve got another training exercise.”

“Woohoo!” Carmine exclaimed, pumping up her fists excitedly.  “Let’s party!”

As all the first years picked up and started to head towards their next exercise, Skull, to his annoyance, couldn’t help but notice Citrine chatting and laughing with her band of losers up ahead.  And when he saw her—making connections between nothing other than that heavy smile on her face, and the intensity with which she fought—when he saw her, he was reminded of someone else from his old school who was always smiling, who always carried on through everything without faltering.

Being reminded of her made him want to fight Citrine again right then and there, but since they were on the way to an exercise, he settled for slapping a bowl of Pumpkin Pete’s Marshmallow Flakes out of a second-year’s hands instead.

Team RWCT may have stopped biting each other’s heads off for the moment, but that didn’t stop them from being a pathetic excuse for a team.  Once again, Skull was intent on proving to Citrine—no, to _everyone_ —that everything about him, including his team, was the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm letting myself off with a shorter chapter, just since it's my first time really writing for SCUL and some of the other chapters have been getting really long lately. But yeah, more on these edgelords tomorrow!


	10. Fractured Skull

“So, do you believe me about the field trips yet?” Scarlet asked in annoyance.

“Ooookay, yeah,” Sun admitted.  “These might be getting a little excessive.”

The first years were back on the obstacle course island to the south, this time, facing the prospect of a very different challenge.  Rising up before them with 10 foot stone walls was an obstacle course that stretched far into the distance.  Professor Wine stood alone by one of the entrances, glad to have the stage to himself for a change.

“This is a maze designed by Professor Lu and myself to train and test your ability to navigate under uncertain circumstances,” Professor Wine said.  “We will release four teams into the maze at a time with each of you using a different path to reach the end.  There will, of course, be a number of challenges within each path.  You must stay on the path instead of going over or through the walls or purposefully breaking them down as part of this assessment.  In addition, you must select one teammate as a designated survivor to make it to the end along with at least one other teammate.”

Skull cocked his head to the side, smirking.  This sounded exactly like something they’d come up with in order to challenge him, someone who could just pass through an obstacle like this.  He couldn’t blame them.  They must have felt the need to test their top student a little more.

“Hey, professor?” called out Reese Chloris.  “Where’s Professor Lu?  She’s usually unveiling these things with you.”

Professor Wine coughed, ruffling his moustache.  “Professor Lu will be… _overseeing_ the maze runs.  You may encounter her if she feels you need a nudge in the right direction,” he explained hesitantly, then quickly went on, “So, who would like to be our first volunteers?”

Skull’s gaze instantly went to Team RWCT, where Citrine had her hand raised already.  He narrowed his eyes, then followed suit.

“Right, good!  Teams ABRN, GNTL, RWCT, and SCUL, please report to me with your selected survivor and then proceed to the entrances.”

“So, Skull!” Carmine exclaimed as she skipped alongside her partner.  “Who’s our survivor?  You?  Y’know, since you’re so tough and all.”  She sent a playful punch at his arm, which he avoided by turning intangible.

“It’d be easier to select someone else,” Lux commented.  “Then Skull could play bodyguard to help them reach the end together.”

“Yeah, what she said,” Skull said.  “Umbra, you’re up on this one.”

“What?  Why me?” Umbra demanded.  “Why not Lux?  She’s like…all small and compact.  Wouldn’t she be the easiest to carry through this?”

Lux tilted her head at Umbra curiously.  “Thank you, I think?”

“No, it’s Umbra,” Skull said.  “She’s strongest on this team after me.  She’s the most likely to make it through the end.”

“Skull, that’s—”

“That’s fine,” Lux said, cutting her partner off.  She smiled and nodded courteously saying, “He is right, after all.  Just out of practicality, if there is anyone you need to drop for dead weight in the exercise, it should be me.”

Although Umbra didn’t seem entirely satisfied with this answer, that was still what they went to Professor Wine with before lining up at the starting gate.  Umbra and Lux also exchanged another glance when Skull shoved Garnet and her team aside so that he could get the starting door beside Team RWCT.

“Shut up,” he snapped at them.  What did they expect him to do, not let the trash know what miserable trash it was?  He drew himself up to his full height before calling over to Citrine, “Hey Miss Sunshine, you ready for your team to fail miserably again?”

But to his immense annoyance, instead of bristling with annoyance, Citrine merely turned back to him and _smiled_.  His jaw nearly dropped open.  She actually had the _gall_ to smile at him.  “Good luck to you too, Skull!” she called back.  “And have fun, Carmine!”

Skull rounded on his teammates.  Instantly, Carmine stopped waving back at Citrine and Lux and Umbra stopped sniggering.  Tensing his shoulders, he drew his war scythe, Charnel Yield, and growled, “We are going to destroy them.  We are going to absolutely _obliterate_ them.”

“Begin!”

The excitable members of Team SCUL took off into the maze at a run, with Lux lagging behind slightly, her suggestion of navigating to the end by following one wall already hanging dead in her mouth.  As they turned and weaved through the walls, Skull was already wondering if their path would allow them to cross paths with any other teams.  If there was that much more competition in the exercise, then it was all the better to him.

Up ahead, holes opened up in the sides of the walls and arrows started shooting back and forth across the path.  “Please,” Skull snorted.  “This again?”  He simply activated his semblance and ran right through the barrage.  He had almost turned the corner when he realized his team hadn’t caught up yet.  Carmine was using that ridiculously huge sword of hers, Big Buster, to shield her way through.  Lux was expertly weaving and dodging through holes in the attack while occasionally relying on Umbra as a shield, while she herself was using aura-enhanced fists to punch away any arrows that dared to come close to her.

“Oi, hurry up, Umbra!” Skull shouted at her.  “I at least need—”

“We’re coming!  Shut up!” Umbra shouted back, breaking through the arrows with the others.  “Not everyone can just walk through obstacles like you, y’know,” she said, catching up to him.

“You could at least go through them faster if you stopped babysitting Lux,” Skull said.  “Learn to keep up or get off my team.” 

On their way through the maze, they passed through a number of other obstacles; trick panels in the ground that turned out to be quicksand, vents in the wall that released a noxious, choking gas, a section where the walls would abruptly attempt to crush them.  Since his teammates managed to make it through at a satisfactory pace, Skull didn’t even have to try to motivate them again.

Then, they came to a fork in the path—two extended paths that reached beyond where they could see.  “Whichever way we go, we’re going to be down that path for a while,” Lux commented.

“Great.  Thanks,” Skull snapped.  “So which way _do_ we go?”

“Ohohoho!  That is a question!” a voice above them exclaimed. 

Team SCUL looked up to the top of the wall where it seemed a faunus had appeared.  However, when they noticed that the figure had a few too many animal parts, having cat ears _and_ a lion’s mane _and_ a tail, they realized that it was actually just Professor Lu.  Just Professor Lu wearing a lion kigurumi, for some reason.

“Professor,” Skull said, giving her a confused look, “with all due respect, what the crap are you doing?”

“Aha!  I am not Professor Lu!” Professor Lu exclaimed, posing with her “paws” raised like a rampant lion.  “I am the wise and ancient sphinx of legend, here to offer you knowledge in exchange for answering my challenge!”

“Cool!” Carmine exclaimed, even as the others shared a skeptical look.  “What knowledge are you gonna give us?  Can you tell us where the Gold Silk Forest of myth is?”

“No, but I can tell you which path to take if you answer my riddle!”

“Even better!  Lay it on us!”

“One second,” Lux said, stepping forward.  “In the legend, the sphinx’s offer was always double-edged.  What are you going to do if we answer your riddle incorrectly?”

“Oooh, clever Baialban,” Professor Lu said.  “Why, I’ll do what the sphinx of legend did!  I’ll gobble you up!”

“So, yeah, she’s gonna kick our asses,” Umbra translated.

“I’m not worried,” Skull proclaimed.  “Lay down your riddle, Professor Sphinx.  I’ll answer whatever it is.”  As long as they got through there as quick as possible.  As long as he got out before Citrine.

“Be careful you don’t have to eat your words, Muinarc.  Here it is.”  She cleared her throat and began to recite:

_“A sword, a gun, and an axe to grind_

_Could not match my strength all combined._

_I’m the follower of all yet bow to none_

_You’ll meet me when your work is done._

_Whether it’s with a whimper or with a bang,_

_I’ll greet you one and all the same._

_You know I’m there, you can’t forget,_

_And my arrival’s the source of all your regrets._

_Who am I?”_

“Pfft, that’s easy,” Skull snorted.  “That’s CARMINE!  ATTACK!”

“Whoo!”  The red-head leapt forward and, with a mighty swing, bashed Big Buster into the wall hard enough to make it shake.  Professor Lu wobbled at the top and fell forward, only to quickly draw a heavy metal club and clash weapons with Carmine.

“Move, maggots!” Skull shouted, dodging around the conflict down the right path.

“But Carmine!” Umbra protested even as she and Lux started after their leader.  Already, they could hear the clangs and crashes of a fierce battle brewing behind them.  “We can’t just leave her.”

Skull snorted.  “Why not?  We don’t need her for this.”

“She’s just fighting Professor Lu,” Lux attempted to reassure her partner.  “I’m sure she won’t actually hurt her.”

This assumption was slightly hurt by the massive sound of stone crashing and crumbling behind them—likely the sound of Carmine activating her semblance.

“See?” Skull laughed, grinning.  “She sounds like she’s having a great time.”

“Okay, but we still don’t know if we’re on the right path,” Umbra insisted.  “We might have to go back for her anyway if this is another dead end.”

“Shut up, Umbra!” he shouted at her.  “I know what I’m doing.”

Umbra’s tail lashed dangerously.  “Tell me to shut up one more time, Skull,” she growled.  “We’ll see how that goes.”  When he didn’t respond, she egged him on, adding, “Or are you too chickenshit to try to finish this off with my semblance?”

Skull abruptly swung around at her.  A startled Umbra attempted to grab for him, but he passed right through.  When he came out on the other side of her, he slammed his elbow into the back of her neck, sending her to her knees in a gasp of pain.

“Leader leads,” Skull announced as Umbra attempted to recover both her composure and her dignity.  “Designated survivor shuts her piehole unless she wants to be dragged across the finish line.”  He rounded on Lux who was staring at the scene with open-mouthed shock and growled, “And spare body starts carrying her own weight if she wants to make it at all.”

“Y-yes, Skull, but—”  She pointed down another corridor with a shaking finger.  “Look.”

Skull turned his head and found a pack of a dozen spidren scurrying down the corridor towards them.  He sneered at them.  Normally, he wouldn’t mind a little light exercise taking out those eight-legged freaks, but given his drive to get out first, he wasn’t up for wasting his time on them.

“Get up, Scales,” he snapped at Umbra.  “We’re getting out.”  Skull started off, noting with contempt when he looked back that Lux was helping Umbra to her feet.  “Come on!” he shouted at them.

“We’re coming!” Lux announced as the pair started running after him.  “We’re—”  Her call was cut off as the first spidren rounded the corner and shot a tether of web at her, catching Lux and yanking her backward.  She managed to quickly cut herself loose with one of her deer-horn knives, but not before the spidren pack cut her off from her teammates and started backing her down the other path.

“Lux!” Umbra cried out in distress.  She spun and attempted to run after her partner until Skull grabbed her by the arm to hold her back.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Skull demanded through gritted teeth. 

“What am I doing?  What are _you_ doing?” Umbra shouted at him.  “That’s not a professor or an illusion.  Those are real Grimm.  Our teammate is in danger!  We have to go after her.”

“We don’t need her,” Skull insisted.  “We need to keep moving.  We are _going_ to keep moving.”

“She could get hurt!”

“If she’s not strong enough to take care of herself, then it’s no less than what she deserves!”

Umbra stared at him in disbelief for a moment before slowly beginning to shake her head in disgust.  “There is something wrong with you, Skull,” she said.  “You’re pathetic and messed up, and I’m going after Lux.”

“Like hell you are!”  He attempted to hold her back, only noticing then that his aura was beginning to drain and Umbra was beginning to look more confident by the second.

“Just try it,” she growled dangerously.  When he didn’t, she snatched her arm back, drew her morning star-scales, and threw herself into battle with the spidrens.

Skull hesitated for just a split second, then took off in the opposite direction.  He wasn’t afraid to fight the spidrens.  He wasn’t afraid to fight Umbra.  He wasn’t afraid of anything.  He told himself that over and over again.  He just wasn’t going to waste his time on those losers and their friendship or whatever.  Whether he completed the stupid assignment or not, he didn’t care anymore.  Give him the failing grade, what did it matter?  But he was still going to get out of maze before Citrine.  He was just going to.  How could he be this much better than her and not?

As distracted as he was by his own determination to get out of the maze, Skull didn’t notice the spring-loaded boxing glove that abruptly punched out of the wall into his face.  Nor did he notice the electrified pool or the flaming coals that started shooting out of the walls.  By the time he reached the end, Skull was in the worst state he had been in since the end of the last Mistral Regional Tournament and cursing his teammates’ names all the while.

But he did manage to stumble his way to the exit.  Rounding one corner, he was rewarded with the sight of the open forest beyond the walls.  “See?” he asked himself.  “Told you I didn’t need them.  I told you.  I told…”

His voice trailed off in horror as he noticed a figure at the end of the maze.  A figure hanging around and laughing freely with three other figures.  A blond figure with an axe.

“No!” Skull screamed.  He charged forward as if there was anything else he could do to alter the order of arrival, only to be rebuffed at the exit.  A purple forcefield had popped up, preventing him from leaving.

A recorded voice spoke from the machinery, saying, “EXERCISE INCOMPLETE.  REQUIRED MEMBERS NOT PRESENT.”

“No,” Skull whispered.  There was a fever rising in him, a manic rush in his chest.  “No, no, NO!”  He began to pound his fist against the forcefield, but it did not yield.  It only repeated its message.  Required members not present.

This couldn’t be happening.  This couldn’t be real.  That country trash Citrine Vermoss out and free and successful with her whole team out as well while he, _the_ Skull Muinarc, was trapped behind bars, his team a fractured, failed mess.  He screamed and beat the forcefield again, as if that would change anything.

At last, Citrine noticed him.  She approached him, smiling, knowing she was victorious and safe as Skull frothed behind the forcefield.  “Hey Skull, you’re looking a little rough around the edges,” she greeted him.  “Do you need some help there?”

All Skull could do was stare at her with eyes full of venom and start to make plans for the leader seminar the following day.  This girl was going to get no less than what she deserved when he once again proved that he was superior.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skull: Why doesn't everyone just follow me and do everything I say and admit I'm the best hunter here?  
> Whale of Guidance: They don't want to be around you because you're a desperate and unpleasant person.
> 
> Spidren: spider-like Grimm; can shoot web out of both their mouths and butts; very versatile


	11. One-and-Three

“Are you sure you want to do this today?” Ware asked.  “We’ve only been training for a week.”

“Yeah, but you fired a lot of arrows at me in that week,” Citrine laughed.  “I think I’m ready.”

“You remember everything from those videos I showed you?” Torque asked.

“You mean those ones with all the cats doing human stuff?  Because those were pretty memorable.  I’m just joking, Torque," she added when Torque looked at her with concern, "don’t worry.  I’ve got this.”

“Yes, I’m sure you do, and I absolutely believe in you, Citrine,” Royal said.  “Just keep in mind everything I taught you, and remember you’re fighting as a representative of this team and of our partnership, and if you continue to bring dishonor to us, I may never recover from the shame.”

Citrine frowned at him.  “What?”

“Nothing!” he said, waving her off in a carefree manner.  “Good luck, and have fun!”

Leaving her team at the door, Citrine stepped once again into Professor Lautrec’s classroom for the Saturday morning leadership seminar.  It was strange to her, coming back after the long and trying week she’d had.  In just seven days, she’d gone from being the leader of the worst team on campus to nearly tearing that team down altogether to inspiring them into a complete turnaround.  Walking into a classroom of other leaders, Citrine no longer felt intimidated or out of place.  She had already begun to run the gauntlet of leadership, and she knew now this was where she belonged.

Citrine took her usual place at the end of the third row back.  She waited patiently for a few minutes until Skull showed up.  Remembering how unhinged he had looked at the end of the previous day’s exercise, she was at first surprised to see him carrying himself up the stairs with his usual slouching swagger.  However, when she thought about it, she realized it made perfect sense for him to keep up all appearances.

Instead of going to his usual seat, Skull slammed a hand on Citrine’s desk and loomed over her.  She looked up and found herself face to face with an extra toothy grin and wide red eyes with dry, reddened whites.  Apparently, it was no longer her who was losing sleep.

“Hey, Citrine,” he hissed, “fair warning, you’ve got one more chance.  One more chance to drop out, and you better take it before I beat you so badly, I make you regret ever stepping foot in this school.”

“You know,” Citrine said, smiling back at him, “I think that’s the first time you’ve called me by my name.  You’re not actually starting to respect me, are you, Skully?”

Skull’s lip curled up and his hand began to clench into a fist.  Then, remembering himself, he started to chuckle instead.  He took his seat behind her, throwing his feet up on the desk and saying, “Very funny, there.  Very funny.”

It was then Citrine noticed a few of the other team leaders eyeing their conflict with varying degrees of wariness.  Some seemed interested as though they might like to see what would happen ndxt, but there were others still who seemed close to coming to her aid.  Torquil Derringer from Team GNTL, Jean Gormlaith from Team BLUJ, even Sun seemed like he was halfway to drawing his weapon in case things escalated.  Citrine, however, played it off, merely gesturing back to Skull, as if to say, “This guy, am I right?”

“Good morning, students,” Professor Lautrec greeted them, strolling into the classroom a few minutes later.  “We have a fair amount to cover today, but I thought it would be a good idea to start with half an hour of matches.  As I understand from Professor Wine, your handling of the Grimm in the maze yesterday was less than exemplary, so you could all do with the practice.  Do I have any volunteers?”

Citrine’s hand shot up instantly, and she heard a whoosh behind her as Skull did the same. 

“Alright, alright, both of you will have an opportunity to fight,” Professor Lautrec said.  "You'll have to flip a coin between you to decide who goes first, though."

“Uh, actually, prof?” Sun volunteered.  “I think those two are looking for a match with each other.”

Professor Lautrec looked at both of them skeptically, although she seemed to focus on Citrine in particular.  She wouldn’t have a clue about the progress Citrine had made that week.  “Is that true?” she asked.  “You both wish to fight each other again?”

“That’s right,” Citrine nodded.

“I’m not just gonna fight her,” Skull said eagerly.  “I’m gonna _eliminate_ her.”

There was a crackle of excitement in the room as they walked onto the stage.  This was the first in-class rematch after all, and after three weeks of smug, flawless victories, some of the leaders were eager to see if the king could be dethroned by the challenger with three weeks of embarrassing losses.

“The usual rules apply to this match,” Professor Lautrec explained as Citrine and Skull began to square off against each other.  “Non-lethal combat until—”

“Wait!” 

The doors to the classroom opened as Royal burst in, a small, potted fern in hand.  Behind him, Citrine could also see Torque and Ware peeking in from the hall.  She had to cover her mouth to hide her laughter from the rest of class.  As odd as they were, it felt good to have a team like this backing her.

“Citrine, I cannot _believe_ how irresponsible you are.  After all the trouble I went through to personally procure this plant for you, you simply forget to bring it with you to class!” Royal scolded her, handing over the fern.  “Honestly, I don’t know how you expect to continue as a leader if—”

“Ehem.”

Royal paused and looked around, as if finally appearing to notice all the leaders watching him as well as Professor Lautrec waiting nearby with her arms folded.  “Oh, my sincerest apologies for interrupting your seminar, professor, students,” Royal said, addressing everyone easily.  “I hope this does not reflect poorly on either myself, Royal Mauvello, or the Monarch Communication Technologies Company to which I am the heir.  I simply wished to ensure that dear Citrine was sufficiently prepared.  You see, we’ve all been practicing very hard this week, Citrine especially, and myself, of course, and I—”

“Yes, thank you, Royal,” Professor Lautrec to the relief of her students.  “You may leave now.”

“Yes, of course,” Royal nodded, taking a few steps towards the door.  Then he looked back.  “Professor, are you sure I couldn’t, perchance, stay for just a—” 

Professor Lautrec sharply pointed towards the door.

“Right, yes, of course.  Good-bye Citrine, we’ll be waiting just out in the hall!”

Citrine couldn’t help but snigger as she set the plant down and squared off against Skull.  He sneered at her and mockingly cooed, “Aww, how cute.  You think a fern from your _friends_ is going to save you.”

“Aww, how cute,” Citrine replied cheekily.  “You think I’m going to need saving.” 

Grinding his teeth in agitation, Skull drew his war scythe, Charnel Yield.  Citrine folded her arms behind her back and waited, patient for the right moment.

“Match, Citrine Vermoss versus Skull Muinarc—begin!”

For a second, neither of them moved, both waiting for the other to take the first step, show the first opening.  However, when Citrine was bold enough to start rocking back and forth to show she was completely open, Skull was goaded into rushing forward.  Admittedly, it was terrifying to stare down a charging Skull, scythe raised, red eyes burning with intensity, every aspect of his appearance meant to frighten and intimidate. 

But she didn’t let herself scatter and falter.  She remembered all the training her teammates had done with her and all the faith they had in her.  She also remembered Skull was not the infallible monster he claimed to be.  Citrine had studied him in battle and she thought she finally had his secret figured out.

 _If Pyrrha Nikos can beat him,_ Citrine thought, _then so can I._

Skull came within an inch of her.  She didn’t flinch.  She didn’t move.

Skull phased through her and came out behind.  Predictable as the tides.

Skull raised his scythe and began to swing it down at her.  Citrine spun and caught it with one hand.  While he, as well as the rest of the class, stared at her in shock and surprise, she quickly concentrated aura into her fist and punched it into his gut.  He was sent flying across the stage. 

She was left holding his weapon.

As he slowly attempted to push himself up, grunting in pain, Citrine checked the aura meters on the big screen.  Skull was already down to nearly 75% aura.

“I knew it!” Citrine crowed, beaming at him.  “I saw it in your old tournament videos!  You rely on your semblance so much, you don’t know how to take a hit!”

“That’s—you _what?_ ” Skull demanded, clutching his stomach as he struggled to his feet.

“Yeah, I really gotta thank Torque again for introducing me to that Blankit app,” she said casually.  “They’ve got videos of everything on there.  Cute kitties doing human things, idiots who think it’s a good idea to film themselves pissing off beowolves…”  Her eyes narrowed and she grinned.  “Even obscure stuff, like, say, the finals from the last few Mistral Regional Tournaments.  You know, all those times Pyrrha Nikos kicked your ass?”

Skull’s eyes lit up with molten hatred at the sound of that name and he charged at Citrine with a powerful scream.  Citrine tossed his scythe up, sending it spinning into the air, and just as he reached up to catch it, she drew out Harbinger in its rifle form and fired off three shots into his shoulder.  He hissed and groaned in pain, but retrieving his weapon had given him the confidence to continue attacking.  Skull ran at her, and once again, Citrine did not flinch until he had fully phased through her, catching his scythe mid-swing.

“You know, I couldn’t figure out exactly what it did, but I think her semblance had something to do with it,” Citrine said.  “Being able to control where you moved so she could catch your attacks more easily.”  Skull growled again and phased out of her grip, attempting to attack her from the other side.  She blocked him there with her rifle. 

“Me?  I just had to practice,” she explained.  “Catching your attacks is nothing after a week of catching Ware’s arrows.”  He phased through her rifle and spun for another attack, but Citrine matched him step for step, catching his attack against Harbinger’s axe form with a swing of her own.

“Plus, it helps that Torque’s been tinkering with my Harbinger!” she laughed as Skull heaved with frustration.  “She improved the transformation speed by 13.57%!”

“Why don’t you just lay down and die?” Skull shouted, before going at her with a wild barrage.  He phased through her at every opportunity, but Citrine was ready to defend at every turn with Harbinger.  It was an oddly lofty battle with the room needed for the swings of their ranged weapons, and a precarious one as well.  One misstep, one missed count on the moment when Skull would release his semblance to land a hit, and she would be in trouble.

However, Citrine had no intention of making such a mistake.  She had put in the work.

“And of course, who better than my own Royal to imitate the arrogant, unpolished form of someone who doesn’t actually know how to fight?” Citrine asked as they whirled and clashed.  “But you know what the difference between you and Royal is, Skull?  Royal isn’t a coward.  Royal _uses_ his semblance, he doesn’t hide behind it.”  She checked the screens.  25% aura.  Just about time.  “And Royal actually _tries_ to get better,” Citrine sneered at Skull.  “He’s not still relying on the same chickenshit tactics that lost him the Mistral Regional Tournament four years in a row.”

“Shut up!” Skull shouted.  Abandoning his scythe altogether, he leapt forward, tackling Citrine to the ground and pinning her down by a shoulder.  Just as he raised a fist to punch her, he found a palm full of green energy pressed up to his face.  He looked to the side in a panic.  The fern was dead in its pot.

“Boo,” Citrine hissed, and blasted him away with her semblance.

For a moment, she simply laid on her back, stars swimming in her vision from the flash of her drain.  She heard a loud buzzer.  Then she heard cheers.  Then she heard, “The match goes to Citrine.”

She began to rub her forehead and grinned, partly in disbelief, mostly in glee.  Citrine got back to her feet, folded up Harbinger, and instead of returning to her seat, went to sit on the opposite side of the room near Sun and Arslan.  She was beginning to feel like she no longer needed to isolate herself by someone who tried to make her miserable.  She deserved better than that.

Arslan turned around in her seat and gave Citrine a respectful nod as she sat.  No doubt the competitive girl was already beginning to think in terms of what competition Citrine could offer her.  The highest compliment, really.

Two seats down from her, Sun gave her a thumbs up and said, “Nice one!  I gotta try that out on him sometime too.”

“Thanks!” she exclaimed.  “And hey.”  She smirked.  “I’m one-and-three on my record now.  I’m comin’ for you.”

“Skull!” Professor Lautrec called out, bringing Citrine’s attention back to the front of the classroom.  “Return to your seat.”

Skull had wobbled to his feet and was using Charnel Yield as a crutch.  His head was turned in a way that she couldn’t see his expression, but based on the way he completely ignored their teacher before leaving the classroom, Citrine felt it couldn’t be good.

In that moment of the silence Skull left behind in his wake, her mind went back to something she had thought of on her first day at Haven.  What would it be like the first time she saw one of her classmates drop out of school?  What would it be like to see someone’s dreams and their life’s ambitions crushed so thoroughly as when they had no choice but to abandon the career path they must have been set on their entire lives?  Citrine knew that by all logic she should have no sympathy for Skull, for all his arrogance and cruelty, but at the same time, she knew she hadn’t wanted it to end like this.  She couldn’t help but hope for him that he would be back and he would be all the better for this.

However, Citrine soon discovered he wasn’t the only one who needed to be hoped for.

“Well, that was certainly an…interesting match,” Professor Lautrec said, recovering from the exit.  “I’m certain we’ll have a lot to discuss afterwards, but while we digest it all, I have something to show you.  I’m sure you are all excited to start preparing for the Vytal Festival Tournament, as within a few short weeks, those of you selected to compete will begin the journey to Vale.  However, since we cannot take all of you who signed up with us, each of you will fight in a four-on-four battle to decide who will go.  Professor Quildrake has just provided me with the list of which teams will be competing against each other.”

A list of teams appeared on the board in place of the aura readouts.  Citrine quickly scanned through to see who Team RWCT would be competing against.  When she saw it, she gulped nervously.

Team RWCT versus Team SSSN.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...wonder how that's gonna go?


	12. Morning Of

_“Team SSSN?  As in_ the  _Team SSSN?  As in the team in our class extensively known for both individual strength and teamwork?  And we’re meant to fight them?”_

_“I don’t mean to sound like a downer, but I’m not sure we can handle this.  We haven’t been training that long.”_

_“Maybe I can crack the school's system and change the lineup.  We could probably beat about anyone else.”_

_“Guys, it’s okay.  We can get stronger by then.  We can do this.  I believe in us.”_

===

The next two weeks passed by, if not uneventfully, then at least more peacefully.  Citrine finally found her rhythm, and it began to shave away some of the anxiety she had felt in her early days at Haven.  She went to classes and learned about dust theory with Professor Wyltt, tactics with Professor Lu, weaponry and mechanics with Professor Wine, and history with Professor Lautrec.  She ate, slept, trained, and laughed alongside her teammates, and even when they did well, she knew she wanted them to improve, and even when they got on her nerves, she knew she still loved them.  She made friends outside of her team, often catching lunches with the other team leaders; Arslan, Jean, Torquil, and even Sun.  She tried to stay friendly with Sun, even knowing what was coming soon.

And then, the day arrived.  Citrine awoke that day shortly before seven and ahead of her alarm.  Turning over under the covers, she saw Torque already sitting up in the next bed over, fiddling with some small, wind-up mechanism, Ware asleep in the third one over, his expression always more concerned in sleep than it was in waking hours, and then Royal, face smothered with the therapeutic and moisturizing cream he always wore to bed when he could manage.  She smiled at them fondly, even as anxiety stirred in her stomach.

“Alright, up and at ‘em boys,” Citrine said hopping onto her feet and going to knock on Ware and Royal’s bedposts.  “It’s a big, big day and we’ve got some stretching to do before we’re ready to face Team SSSSSSSSSSSSSSN.”

"Mmmnn," Royal groaned, turning over in bed.  "Five more minutes, Chives..."

Citrine glanced back at Torque.  She mouthed, _Chives?_   Torque shrugged.  Citrine shrugged as well, then elbow dropped onto Royal in bed, shouting, "Up and at 'em means up and at 'em!"

Ware, who had watched all this transpire, chuckled as Royal clutched his side and said, "Never change, Citrine.  Never change."

The members of Team RWCT quickly cleaned up and dressed, getting ready for battle.  There were little things that had they had all changed about themselves since they had started school.  Torque had stopped wearing coveralls whenever possible, adding more casual clothes to her wardrobe.  She was also no longer afraid to spend time with her partner in public.  Much the same could be said of Ware as well, although his step out of the limelight had allowed him to feel more comfortable dressing down.  As he had become more used to his role as a hunter in training, Royal had started wearing his sword around more often, although he had added more lavender flair to the sheath.  Citrine hadn't done much to change her own skirts and t-shirts, but she was already feeling different enough to be okay with that.

Just as Citrine was about to lead them out the door, she heard a pointed cough behind her.  Waiting with rather sheepish expressions on all their faces, Torque, Royal, and Ware were standing in line, Royal holding a gorgeously wrapped purple-and-blue present tied with a silver bow.

“Guuuuys,” Citrine said, raising her eyebrows skeptically, “what is this?”

“A present,” Torque answered.

“A small token of our appreciation,” Royal expounded. 

“A little something we threw together when you were in your seminars,” Ware said modestly.

“We threw together the design,” Torque corrected him.  “We didn’t make it.  We can’t sew.”

Citrine took it apprehensively and began to tear it open.  Even as Royal cringed at her careless destruction of his beautiful wrap job, Ware explained, “We noticed you didn’t have an emblem registered, and while it’s traditional for a hunter to design their own, we decided we might help you out.”

"You can change it if you don't like it," Torque said. 

“Dear Ware here conceptualized the design,” Royal explained.

“Royal actually drew it though,” Ware said.  “He is a surprisingly decent artist.”

“Ware,” Royal gasped, lighting up, “that is so—”

“I ordered it,” Torque interrupted him. 

“I _would_ have ordered it, but Torque insisted—”

“Royal wanted to get you something made of velvet, and I knew you wouldn’t like that.”

“Well,” Ware said, “ _do_ you like it?”

Citrine held her present gently in her hands, turning it over and slowly examining it.  It was a moss green, short-sleeved denim jacket, comfortable but made with tough material.  On the back was a golden emblem—one that looked like a gem on the bottom half that bloomed into chrysanthemum petals above.  Quietly, she ran her thumb over the stitching of her new emblem.  It felt right.  She slung the jacket on as well.  It fit right.

“It’s perfect,” she said.  “Now let’s go kick Team SSSN’s ass.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short, sweet interlude while I pound out that final fight. Now Citrine's got an emblem! If anyone asks why she didn't have one before, she usually tells them it was because she didn't have a lot of materials to draw one out on the road. In reality, it's because she's really bad at drawing.


	13. Versus!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment or kudos if you like? Eight-person fight scenes are a headache to write.

Haven, as it turned out, was not a one-colosseum school.  While they had seen an overgrown and ruined one during their first exercise, it seemed the school had not been content to leave that as a reminder of Mistral’s historical culture.  On the northern edge of the island was a more recently constructed colosseum, taller and more magnificent than the ruined one had once been.  On the outside, it gave the appearance of traditional architecture with the gleaming white marble pillars and arches, but the inside almost immediately gave way to more metal and mechanical parts as well as the projected screens and lights common to modern cities.

The first few rows of stadium seating were the only parts of the colosseum to feature any sort of wood, a material that was fairly rare in common Mistralese buildings and structures, and it didn’t take Citrine long to figure out why it had been used in that area alone.  While most of the stadium was littered with the rest of Haven’s student body, there were a number of posh looking guests seated up front. 

As Team RWCT filed into the ringside waiting area for competitors, Citrine nodded towards the guests and asked, “Any idea what they’re doing here?”

Ware took one look at them and rolled his eyes.  “If I had to guess,” he said, “it’s some of the members of Mistral’s upper crust taking a break from the fine arts for something a little more low-brow.  In other words, they’re slumming it.”

Royal frowned, apparently confused by this.  “Slumming it?” he echoed indignantly.  “No, that doesn’t sound right.  We’re not the slums, are we?”

“In terms of entertainment, we are,” Ware said.

“Haven only has a three and a half star rating out of ten on Hearth,” Torque explained.  “And one of those we only got this year because Ware started attending.”

“Well, that is simply outrageous!” Royal exclaimed indignantly.  “This needs to be remedied immediately.  I refuse to be a part of an institution that…”

And while Royal railed on about the issue of the day, Citrine found her gaze trailing towards one of the benches near the ring.  Skull was sitting there, hunched over with a glowering expression on his face.  There was something… _off_ about him.  He seemed more angry than arrogant, and more tired than terrifying.  Citrine also quickly realized that his team was nowhere in sight, even though they were meant to be competing soon.

She felt a smack in the back of her leg and looked around to find that Torque had hit her with Výthisi, harder than usual, and was giving her a judgmental look.  “What?” Citrine demanded.

“He’s not your problem,” Torque told her firmly.  “You won.  He lost.  You should both get over it.”

“I-I know that,” Citrine insisted, blushing slightly, embarrassed at being caught caring about such a person as Skull.  “I’m still allowed to worry about my classmate though, aren’t I?”

“Does it have to be that one?” Torque asked.

“Well, he hasn’t been to the last two seminars,” she said.  “And I never see him with his team anymore.  He’s going to get them all kicked out if he doesn’t shape up.”

“They’ll be fine.  They’ll get a better leader,” Torque said with certainty.  “He’s just dragging himself down at this point.”

Citrine bit her lip nervously.  Despite Torque’s words, she couldn’t help but feel like she was somehow responsible.  If she’d known Skull was going to take the loss so badly, maybe she wouldn’t have beaten him so thoroughly.  However, there wasn’t time in the moment to consider this fully.  She had matters of her own to attend to today.

“Will Team SSSN and Team RWCT please report to the arena?” Professor Wine’s voice boomed out through the loudspeaker.  “The first match will soon begin.”

She perked up, standing up straight, and looked to her teammates.  “Guess we’re going first,” she said, motioning them forward.

“Good,” Ware said.  “It’d be a shame to waste our strength on nervous energy.”

“It’s up to us to set the bar,” Royal said with eagerness.  “Come, let’s set it high and show this crowd that Haven is more than _the slums_.” 

“And get this over with,” Torque agreed.

When Citrine had first arrived at Haven, she had been terrified of being caught in small spaces.  Stepping into the ring in the middle of the colosseum, with the eyes of all of Haven’s professors, students, and guests on her, she was abruptly aware of how much space there was around her in a way that inspired both fear and awe.  With all this space, there was the possibility for anything to happen.  This was no longer practice.  There was no more time for that.  

As her teammates lined up beside her, and Sun’s teammates lined up beside him just a few feet away, she was also made aware of how real this was.  In just a moment, they would leap into battle against each other, and she would publicly test the strength of her team against his.  It was her greatest challenge yet, and she could only hope that she had done enough to prepare for it.  She could only have faith that her teammates could carry themselves with the strength she knew they held.

“Psst.  Citrine.”

Citrine snapped to attention, not even having realized she’d been drifting.  Looking around, she was surprised to find that the person who had called out to her was not one of her teammates, but Sage Ayana over on the other side of the ring.  Catching her attention with a pair of equally yellow eyes, he lifted his hands up and down before his chest, making the gesture for “breathe.”  She breathed deeply, felt her head clear, and nodded her thanks to him.  Sage glanced aside, and Neptune elbowed him playfully.

“Welcome, welcome, everyone to the qualification rounds for Haven Academy students in the Vytal Festival Tournament!” Professor Wine’s voice boomed out jovially.  “Although we have a number of students eager to face the challenges of the other three kingdoms and bring glory back to Mistral, we are limited on how many we can take with us.  These matches today will help to determine who those lucky few are.  The rules for matches are as follows.  One, you—”

“You can fight with whatever tactics, weapons, and semblances you’ve got!” Professor Lu interrupted him, either sharing or stealing his mic.  “Just try not to kill or maim your opponents.  _Apparently,_ that’s looked down upon.”

“…Yes, Candace, because that would _kill_ them.”

“Whatever, _Gale_.  Anyway, since that’s out, you’ve only got two options to defeat your opponents.  You either knock ‘em out of bounds or knock their aura below 15%.  How you do that is up to you!”

“For our guests and upperclassmen here with us today who may not be familiar with them, we have two notable first-year teams to start off the matches,” Professor Wine said.  “On one side is Team SSSN, led by Sun Wukong.  Sun was elected as the class representative, and the rest of his team is just as popular with their classmates.  These four have displayed exemplary teamwork between their partners, but you’d also have to be foolish to underestimate their individual skill.”

Before he’d finished his introduction, Neptune and Scarlet were already posing to the shrieks of some very excited onlookers among their classmates, and Sun had very coolly slung his staff over his shoulder.  Sage seemed to be the only one among them uninterested in posturing, and even he had a few people calling out his name.

“I guess he’s the quiet one on _their_ team,” Ware joked, pointing him out.

“And on the other side—”

“And over here we’ve got some of my favorite kiddos, Team RWCT!” Professor Lu exclaimed.  “I know as teachers, we’re not supposed to play favorites, but boy is it fun to watch them run around.  They’ve been so up and down in the month they’ve been here, you never know if you’re going to see them shoot the moon or trip over their own feet.  And who could forget that they’ve got Ware Sterling, formerly of Star Shot fame, on their team?”

There was an even louder cry from the crowd at the mention of Ware’s name, and even some of the guests seemed to sit up a little straighter to pay attention to him.  Ware glanced over at Citrine with a guilty expression on his face and mouthed, _Sorry._   Citrine thought it was worth it just to notice the fuming look of jealousy on Neptune.  This was just going to make things all the easier.

“Both teams ready?” Professor Wine called out.  Citrine nodded, drawing Harbinger’s Almanac.  Down the line, her teammates followed suit, Torque with Výthisi’s hammer form, Ware with Cryptelum, and Royal with Spurious Sovereign.  Team SSSN did the same, with Neptune pulling out his gun, Scarlet, his cutlass, and Sage, that sword of his almost large enough to match Carmine’s.  For a split second, they stared each other down, weapons drawn, semblances ready to activate.

“Begin!” Professors Wine and Lu exclaimed as one.

The two teams charged at each other right out of the gate, making it appear that there would be an 8-person collision in the center.  However, after a second to evaluate, Citrine called out, “Tool Fox, split!”  Ware took a knee to aim as Torque activated her semblance and went after Scarlet.  Scarlet dodged the first swing of her hammer, but when Ware hit her in the back with a double-dose of fire and gravity arrows, she was rocketed forward, crashing into Scarlet and sending them both skidding back to the edge of the ring.

“Scarlet!” Sage exclaimed and spun, attempting to go after his partner.  Before he could take two steps, a shadow passed overhead and Citrine landed before him, blocking a blow from his sword that swung down to meet her. 

Grinning up at him as they crossed weapons, Citrine said, “Hold on there, big boy.  Your opponent’s right here.”

Sage grunted in effort and tried to swing her away axe to disarm her, but Citrine held her grip, leading to them clashing again.  She had to admit, there was some serious power behind his swings.  Those muscles of his weren’t just for show.  Still, she had been watching Sage in class and in exercises over the past two weeks, and Citrine was certain that if her aura could hold out to help her match his strength, then she would eventually beat him out in skill.

“Hold on, buddy!” Sun exclaimed, heading over to support him.  “I’ve got your—OOF!”  At the feeling of a sharp shot to the back of his head, Sun spun and found Royal crouched behind his shield, peeking through its eye slit with the weapon’s small, attached rifle.  “Seriously, dude?” Sun asked in disbelief.  “ _You?_ ”

“Well, ehem.”  Royal chuckled as he straightened up, returning Sovereign to its sword form.  Then, he leapt, platforming up to heights Sun was incapable of reaching in the open-ceilinged stadium.  “Yes,” he said confidently, poised for attack, “ _me._ ”

Meanwhile, Neptune had needed no attacking to get him chasing Ware to the edge of the ring.  A little of Ware flirting with the crowd, asking them to give a big cheer for Team RWCT, had been enough to get the blue haired boy to come after him specifically.  As it turned out, Citrine had been right about him.  If he was willing to abandon his teammates in training exercises over his hydrophobia, then he was also willing to forget about them when his status as head ladies’ man was challenged. 

 _Maybe I should direct him to Perdita after this,_ Ware thought generously as he dodged the strokes of Neptune’s guandao.  _She’s been pining for some new arm candy since I left._

“You are so going down, dude,” Neptune threatened him as he spun his weapon back to gun form.  “Then everyone will _really_ see who the hottest in this school is.  And guess what?  It’s probably me.  Because of how hot I am.  In case that wasn’t clear.”

_They’d be perfect for each other._

Ware’s partner, meanwhile, was having a little more trouble with her opponent and it was causing her no small amount of distress.  Citrine had asked Torque to take down Scarlet because he relied on acrobatics and his grappling hook gun to throw opponents off balance, and Torque, in contrast, was solid and grounded, difficult to throw off.  While that part was working fine, with Scarlet so far unable to so much as nudge Torque in their clash of cutlass and hammer, the plan had its downfalls as well.

It didn’t take long for Torque to realize that Scarlet had actually been using their exchanges as a smokescreen to edge them back towards the center of the ring where Citrine was fighting Sage.  He must have seen the futility in trying to fend her off on his own and thought he would be better off teaming up with his partner.  He might even be trying to team up with Sage against Citrine.

Realizing this, she felt a surge of determination, and growled, “You’re not getting any closer to her.”  She raised Výthisi up high and took a tremendous swing at Scarlet, only to miss by a hair when he took a quick step backward.  She ended up embedding her hammer in the stone of the ring instead.

“Whoa,” he said as she struggled to pull her weapon loose, “it’s nothing personal, y’know.”  Then he slashed her across the side.

The pain of the attack giving her a burst of adrenaline, Torque managed to yank her hammer up and used it to quickly smack the cutlass out of his hand.  Before it had even fully fallen away, Scarlet had already drawn his pistol and aimed it at her.  She activated her semblance to guard against his shots, but she could already feel it putting a strain on her rapidly draining aura.  Drawing close enough to take a bullet point-blank to the chest, Torque pulled Výthisi into gauntlet form.  She grabbed his pistol with one hand and then used the other to clock him straight across the face, sending him crashing over. 

There was a loud buzz as Professor Lu exclaimed, “Our first knock-out of the day!  Scarlet David is down!”

Torque let out a sigh of relief, released her semblance, and slumped to the ground.  A second buzz was soon to follow.

“Torque!” Citrine exclaimed as Professor Lu announced her downfall.  She tried to look over to her friend for one second, but was forced to leap backwards when Sage brought his sword down at her heavily.

“Your opponent’s right here, remember?” Sage said, echoing her earlier challenge. 

Citrine tensed, one part annoyed at herself for being so cocky, one part worried about Torque, one part excited that Sage seemed to be getting into this.  The first part was only heightened when she heard a loud BANG behind her and Royal suddenly came crashing down, slightly singed.  Standing back to back as Sage and Sun closed in on them, Citrine hissed, “You need to get back up there, Royal!  You’ve got an advantage if he can’t reach you with his staff.”

“He can still shoot me, Citrine!” Royal said, panic rising in his voice.  “And he can still jump really high on his own.  I don’t know how long I can keep him distracted”

“Well, just hold on.  You’re doing great so far,” Citrine assured him.  “I know you can hold out against Sun longer than Sage can hold out against me.  Just hold out, and then we can double-team him.  Maybe even triple if Ware can finish Neptune soon.”

“Alright, I’ll—jump!”

“What?”  Citrine turned as Royal leapt back into the sky, avoiding the pair of spectral clones the real Sun had projected towards them.  Too late to dodge, each one grabbed Citrine by an arm and held her in place as Sage took a swing at her.  The clones’ grip allowed her to hop up and send Sage flying back with a powerful kick.  She then wrenched her arms back and forth, smashing the clones into pieces and charging after Sage once again.

“Hurry up, Ware!” Citrine called across the ring.  “This is getting dicey!”

Ware was too concentrated on his own match to give a proper reply.  Despite his previous buffoonish actions, Neptune was turning out to be a surprisingly difficult opponent.  He had already thwarted one attempt to freeze him in place and then neutralized an attack with a lightning arrow with the current from his own gun.  To make matters worse, as they danced around the edge of the ring, Ware was having an increasingly difficult time keeping him at a distance, and he wasn’t sure he could beat him in a melee battle.

 _Sure would be nice if there was water dust,_ Ware thought as he dodged the stabs of Neptune’s trident.  _That would put him in his—_

 _Wait_. 

A thought struck him.

“You know there’s no way you can win here, right?” Ware called out to Neptune teasingly.  “Even if you manage to beat me, all the girls at school will just hate you for hurting their _real_ idol.” 

As Neptune let out an enraged shout and took a wild swing at him, Ware took the opportunity to slip behind him and draw an ice arrow.  Neptune reflexively pulled up his weapon to guard himself, but instead of shooting it at him, he shot it up into the sky.  As Neptune watched to see where it would fall, preparing to deflect it, Ware drew a fire arrow and shot it at the ice one.  As the two collided, a pool of water rained down, apparently enough to scare Neptune into flinching. 

It was enough.  Ware rushed forward and knocked Neptune’s weapon out of his hand, then shoved him backwards with his bow.  Neptune recovered quickly enough to grab Cryptelum, and the two were soon engaged in a shoving match around the weapon.

They were almost matched in physical strength, their muscles quivering as they attempted to make the slightest move against the other, but he was so close.  Neptune was so close to the edge of the ring that Ware was certain if he could just hold out a little longer, he could push him over.  If he could just be a little stronger.

Just a little…

Neptune budged an inch.  “Nrrrgh.  I don’t even see why the girls think you’re so cool!” he grunted, his face red and strained from the effort.  “Up close you’ve just got bushy brows and patchy facial hair!”

Ware stopped instantly, his blood running cold.  Bushy…patchy… _no_.  Not in front of all these people.

Neptune took advantage of his sudden lack of effort and wrenched the bow around him.  With a cry of surprise, Ware tumbled out of the ring to the tune of the buzzer and Professor Wine commenting, “It looks like we’ve got a ring out!  Ware Sterling is out!”

“Crap!” Citrine exclaimed as a stadium of fans began booing.  In the distance, she could already see Neptune switching gears, rushing towards Sun to help him with his opponent, as Royal himself slowed considerably on his platform leaps, apparently running low on aura.  Meanwhile, she was still stuck with Sage half a ring away, trying to get the upper hand on him. 

Deciding she couldn’t afford to play it safe anymore, Citrine made a dash for the edge of the ring, already reaching out as far as she could with her semblance.  Sage was only a step behind her, his sword ready for an upward swing as soon as he caught up.  Citrine began to feel a tingle of energy collecting in her hand as she reached the edge and quickly drained all the grass she could.  Then, she turned back and ducked low, smashing herself into the broad, flat side of Sage’s sword.  He stared at her, shocked, as he tripped over her, and as he began to tumble over the other side, she raised her palm and blasted her semblance into his chest, sending him flying into the barrier before the front row seats.

Citrine didn’t even have time to enjoy the glorious buzzer that rang after Sage’s exit.  She was already rushing back across the all too large ring towards where Royal had been knocked to the ground by a blast of Neptune’s electric current.  As the two remaining members of Team SSSN closed in on him, Sun projected his clones again, and they quickly went to work on double-teaming Royal.  In his hazy state, the best he could do was fend off one with his sword while the other got a well-placed kick in, all while Sun and Neptune just watched.

A surge of protective instinct rose up in her.  Royal shouldn’t have to face them on his own.  “Leave him alone!” she shouted.  Switching to rifle form, she took a shot at Sun’s back, breaking his concentration and causing the clones to disappear.  Royal sank to his knees, leaning on his sword for support, and as Sun turned to face Citrine, Neptune shot Royal in the side, leading to his total collapse.  The buzz that followed was practically deafening for Citrine, left alone to face the two strongest members on Team SSSN.

Not missing a beat, Citrine continued her charge, jumping right in between Sun and Neptune.  She didn’t give them a moment to breathe.  She didn’t give herself a moment.  The only way she was going to win now—and she _had_ to win, she had to win, for everything her teammates had given these past weeks, for how hopeful they’d been, for how much they wanted to win and prove themselves—the only way to win was to be unpredictable and erratic.  She couldn’t let Sun and Neptune regroup and think about this and take advantage of their numbers.

Unfortunately, even the wildest swings of Harbinger, the close combat kick she landed on Neptune, and the last bit of drain she’d had saved blasted into Sun’s shoulder weren’t enough to break them up.  When she went to slash at Sun again, Neptune used his trident to knock her off her feet.  When she tried to use Harbinger to push herself up, Sun blasted it out of her hand and sent it skittering across the ring.

 _It can’t end like this,_ Citrine thought desperately, gritting her teeth as she tried to push herself up on shaking hands.  _We worked so hard.  My team…I can’t let my team—_

“C’mon, Citrine,” Neptune said above her.  “Can’t you just like…call it already?”

He didn’t just sound casual about saying that.  He sounded uncomfortable.  At that point, he was so certain of their victory, he just didn’t want to have to hit his downed classmate again.  Citrine slowly looked back at Sun.  He was withholding judgment, waiting for her next move. 

“Hey, Sun,” she said, smirking weakly.  “You’re not gonna make me go out like a punk, are you?”

Sun snorted.  “Nah,” he said.  “I can respect that.”

Citrine summoned the last of her strength and made one final rush at him, a fist almost devoid of aura her only weapon.  Effortlessly, Sun spun and kicked her under the chin.  Her aura shattered, and she was out before she even hit the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. Turns out anime tournaments aren't nearly as fun if you're the outmatched anime background character :')


	14. Ever Upward

The first thing Citrine felt when she woke up was pain.  Not the sharp pain she felt when she was shot or hit with a weapon in battle, but a dull ache all over.  It was a pain she hadn’t been familiar with since the early days of her hunter training when she was first stretching the muscles of her aura, and overexerting herself was a common occurrence.  In other words, it was real pain, not the muffled version her aura guarded her from on a daily basis.

Slowly, she opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling above her.  White panels and fluorescent lights, both unfamiliar to her, swam in her vision.  “Ughh…”  Citrine groaned and lifted a sore arm over her forehead.  “Where am I?  What time is it?”

“You are in the medical office of Haven Colosseum,” a familiar voice said to the side.  “And it is three p.m. in the afternoon, still on October the sixth, if you want to know.”

Wincing as she gingerly sat up, Citrine looked around.  She was in a clean white room filled with beds, cabinets with medical supplies, and silent monitoring equipment.  There was also Professor Quildrake, waiting in a chair by the doorway.

“Professor,” Citrine greeted her quietly.  She began to roll her shoulders to try to work out the kinks.  “What are you doing here?”

“Well, it _is_ my school,” she joked, getting up and walking over to Citrine’s bedside.  “Actually, they’re taking a break in the matches now that all the first and second-years have finished.  I thought I’d check on the downed students in the meantime.”

She felt terribly aware of how there was only one other student in there, a second-year with golden hair and a golden chain who was being looked after by Professor Key.  “My teammates?” Citrine asked.

“They accompanied you here, then went to check on one of the matches,” Professor Quildrake explained.

Citrine’s face flushed, a lump growing in her throat.  “And Team SSSN?” she asked slowly.

“Yes, Team SSSN won your match,” she nodded.  “They’ll be traveling to Vale in a few weeks as representatives of the school.”

It hit her hard, having the reality of her situation confirmed.  Citrine bowed her head shamefully.  “Then…then we lost,” she murmured.  “I let my team down.”

“Vermoss, come now—”

“Please, professor!” Citrine exclaimed, turning her desperate gaze on her.  “Give us another chance!  If it’s possible, please, just let us show you we deserve to go to the tournament.  My team’s been working _so_ hard, and if we just had another week or-or even another day to prepare, I know we could—”  She cut herself off, swallowing hard, overwhelmed by all the things she wanted to say.  Staring down at her hands, still singed from when Sun had shot her, she said, “My team deserves better.”

Quildrake considered her with a gentle expression for a moment, then said, “Vermoss, did you know that the majority of students who compete in the Vytal Festival Tournament are usually first or second-year students?”

She frowned at her headmaster.  “No?”  Was that supposed to make her feel better, that she’d done so badly even though she had a better chance of getting through?

“Did you also know,” Professor Quildrake began, smirking, “that you managed to receive the lowest written entrance exam score in the history of the school?  Not just the lowest score to be accepted, but the lowest score ever?  A near perfect zero, in fact.”

Her eyes widened slightly, the memory of that exam and her intention to thoroughly fail it seeming so distant.  “If that’s true, then why am I here at all?” she asked.  “And what does that have to do with the tournament?”

“It has to do with the fact that you would need more than either bad luck or simple ignorance to get a score that low,” Professor Quildrake said.  “You would need a high degree of knowledge of everything on the test and a determination to not be taken from the only family you knew in order to score that low.  And I could never turn down an examinee such as that, because you were determined to turn down all the opportunities and the glory Haven could offer you, all in order to simply remain with a small business and uphold everything of value to _you_ —safety, survival, and family, in whatever way that means to you.

“While most students begin at Haven with ambitions of fame and glory, by the time they have become upperclassmen, they have begun to take on your same values.  After two years of real combat situations, the show and grandeur of the tournament no longer appeals to third-years, and most of the fourth years have become too busy with actual missions to be bothered with it.  They see it as...beneath them.”

Citrine considered that curiously.  Team RNBW bragging about their participation and ranking in the tournament as upperclassmen seemed a lot less impressive in that light.

“But what does that mean for us?” Citrine asked.  “We still are first-years, and now we’ve just missed our shot to do that and mess around in the tournament.”

“It means, Vermoss, that while you may have missed one opportunity, many more better suited to your particular dogma may soon present themselves,” Professor Quildrake said.  “While many of Mistral’s brightest students and strongest hunters are away at Vale for the tournament, the criminal element of this kingdom will remain, just like the Grimm that eternally stalk our borders.  In the absence of the rest of our kingdom’s defenders, there will be plenty of chances for you to prove yourselves just around the corner.  And if that doesn’t reassure you,” she added, noting the skepticism still on Citrine’s face, “perhaps a visit from your teammates will.  If sounds like they’re right around the corner as well.”

Before Citrine could even fully wobble onto her feet, Torque and Royal burst into the room, followed more subduedly by Ware.  “Citrine!” Torque and Royal both exclaimed, brushing past their headmaster to greet her with great, crushing hugs from either side.

“Guys,” she gasped, even as she smiled at them.  “Low aura.  This actually kind of hurts.”

“Citrine, I’m sorry!” Torque exclaimed, a distraught expression on her face.  “I wasn’t fast enough.  I couldn’t hit Scarlet enough.  I let us down.”

“No, Torque, it was I who let us down,” Royal insisted, holding his chin up stiffly.  “As the heir to the Monarch Communication Technologies Company, I should be held to a higher standard.  If I had just been lighter on my feet, I might have been better able to assist you against Sun and Neptune.”

“Guys, guys,” Citrine said.  She looked back to Ware, who was rubbing one arm nervously as for once, his expression matched the emotion in his guiltily slung back ears.  “Guys,” she said, smiling at all of them kindly, “no one’s at fault here.  If it’s anyone, it’s me for not having a good enough strategy, but this… _setback_ just means we’ve all got room to improve.  And if we’re here in Haven, we’ll have a lot more ways to do that than by fighting in some dinky tournament.”  Behind her teammates’ backs, Professor Quildrake gave her a small nod of approval and strolled out of the room.  “Plus,” she added gleefully, “this just means we’ve got the next few months Skull-free.”

“Skull-free?” Torque echoed.  “Citrine, you didn’t see—”

“Team SCUL _lost_ their match,” Royal interrupted her eagerly.

“Royal, _I_ wanted to tell her.”

“They lost?”  Citrine’s eyes widened in shock.  “To who?”

“Team Arts and—I mean, Team AMTH,” Royal said.

Citrine could hardly believe it.  Team AMTH wasn’t necessarily a _bad_ team, but she’d always envisioned them in the future as more of the type of hunters who guarded cultural landmarks and VIPs, as opposed to the type that went out into the wilderness and hunted packs of beowolves.  She’d certainly never imagined them as the type to beat Team SCUL.

“Carmine, Umbra, and Lux didn’t show up until the last minute,” Ware explained, “and when they did, it seemed like they just…let themselves be knocked out of the ring.  Skull had to face all four of them on his own.  He actually managed to knock out Mint and Hibiscus, but then he ran out of aura to use for his semblance.  Aqua and Tanager finished him off.”

Torque added, with no small degree of satisfaction, “He didn’t stand a chance.”

Citrine, however, was unsure of how to feel about that, and unsure of what she was going to do with Skull stuck at Haven alongside her.

“Oh, and Citrine!” Royal exclaimed.  He pulled a small, single-use scroll out of his pocket and handed it to her, saying, “Professor Lautrec passed this onto us from one of the guests who watched our match.  She said it’s from someone interested in hiring us this semester, but we’ve been waiting until you awoke to watch it.”

“Hire us?” Citrine asked, all at once confused about why anyone would want to hire them at this point, curious about who the message had come from, and excited to find out what opportunities awaited them in the future.  As her teammates crowded around her to watch the message, excitement won out.  “Alright,” she said, pulling the scroll open.  “Let’s see what this is.”

===

And in the wilderness on the edge of the kingdom, under the dark cover of night, a shrouded figure handed a single-use scroll to another young woman as her teammates watched in silence.

“These are your instructions for the mission,” the figure said as the young woman pocketed the scroll, “but in case they’re too complex for you, let me make it very clear.  I want you to tear it down.  Flood the streets.  Burn it to the ground and scatter the ashes.  Kill if you have to.  Just make sure that no human will ever set foot there again.  Understand?”

The young woman narrowed her eyes at his condescension.  “I understand… _perfectly_ ,” she said, then spread out the pair of flame colored wings on her back, just before she and her comrades were swallowed up by an pitch black grip of an all-encompassing void.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand that's it! That's the last chapter of this part, as well as the last chapter of what I would consider Volume 1 of Team RWCT's story. Boy has it been a ride. I'll be taking another few days and recharge my brain and plot out for the future, and then I'll be back to kick off Volume 2!
> 
> Until then, ever upward!


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